


New Confessions of an Old Kind

by shpeeper



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Canon Typical Humor, Dancing, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Just to be safe, M/M, Self Loathing, Slow Burn, demos liver, slight homophobia, teen rating is for swearing and drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-10-20 21:03:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10670706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shpeeper/pseuds/shpeeper
Summary: Like most slurred confessions, this one came stumbling out the medic’s mouth after he’d had just a few too many drinks.





	1. Chapter 1

Like most slurred confessions, this one came stumbling out the medic’s mouth after he’d had just a few too many drinks.

It was Friday evening, which meant that the whole team got together for some friendly team bonding with their secret stash of spirits. Some of them got their fix from kind family members in cleverly disguised packages (to which Miss Pauling absolutely knew about, but figured it wasn’t the  _ worst  _ thing someone could send to trained killers) or some of the more crafter of the mercenaries were able to sneak out and steal it from the closest town. Either way, Friday nights were always the highlight of the week with the promise of the company of each other as friends rather than fellow cannon fader. Oh, and the beers of course.

This Friday had been nice in particular, after the last team win of the day everyone was in high spirits and ready to relax – some more than others. The bases living area burst with life and echoed their cheers, and it was apparent that everyone was letting loose tonight.  So it wasn’t long before everyone had more than enough of their fill.

Scout of course talked big, but was a lightweight; Pyro didn’t drink, but enjoyed the company and had since long gone to bed; Soldier had run off an hour ago on the hunt for communists (as he always did when he was drunk); Sniper had passed out during a drinking contest with Spy, who was now after losing said contest on sprawled on the counter, knife in hand; Engineer had “hit the hay” ages ago like a responsible adult; Demo was _ still _ drinking, and that left Heavy and Medic telling half slurred stories like always.

Medic’s laugher echoed through the room, “Mein freund, if you think I’m mad now, you should’ve seen me in my medical school days! Imagine the look on my professor’s faces when they found out I used my funded project to create human monstrosities!” He wiped a tear from his eye, “Truly those were the glory days.”

Heavy shook his head and laughed to himself. He really was trying to listen, but his drinking was starting to get to his head and was becoming sleepier by the minute.

“What about you Misha?”, the Doctor asked and put an arm around his shoulder, “What where your glory days like?”

Heavy mulls it over, ”I guess they are now. Didn’t have much growing up. Mostly took care of family.”

“Oh come now, I’m sure there’s something noteworthy! I mean, the middle of Siberia must have  _ something _ right?”

Heavy laughs, “Siberia? No. Mostly snow. Sometimes bears.”

Medic pats Heavy on the back while simultaneously balancing himself back into his chair. His hair was disheveled from the long day, and he had retired his long medical jacket for his casual wear long ago. He glances quickly to Demo who’s now snoring loudly, bottle in hand and then looks back to Heavy. He leans in with a big grin on his face, the kind of grin Heavy knows leads to trouble or the occasional dismemberment. “You’re a handsome man, I’m sure you had plenty of Russian ladies after you, ja?”

It’s not the first time they’d talked about women.  Medic had already told tales of when he courted his own wife back before they fled Germany. “Young and dashing” he had described himself to be.  But Heavy thought he’d never had a phase of his life like that, a phase when he was young and adventurous or dashing.  Heavy had always just been good boy Misha taking care of his family for the most part.  Of course his mother had always hoped for him to settle down with someone, but it just never happened. He’d never been interested in any of the girls in the nearest town and none of them were particularly interested in him. Other than the occasional feeling of loneliness, Heavy had been perfectly fine with the stalemate. After all, it wasn’t as if he was unloved – he was very grateful for his friends and family and would protect him with all of his being, as he had done countless times over.

Heavy pulled away from Medic’s stare and choked a little at the Doctor’s question, not expecting him to bring up his non-existent love life, “Uh… no,” he laughed lightly, “No women.”

Medic looked completely surprised, “No women? Really?”

“Really.”

Medic paused, squinting his eyes, “Oh, I get it. You just don’t like to brag about your  _ endeavours _ , yes? It’s fine, we’re all friends here.”

Heavy sighed, slightly annoyed, “Even if this were true, I would tell you. But there are no endeavors.”

Medic paused again, waiting for Heavy to laugh and say he was joking, but it never came. He whistled, “That’s unbelievable Misha. A crime really, they must have been blind. Or dumb for that matter.”

Heavy grunted in agreement, not really wanting to keep on the subject any longer. Heavy knows he’s not young and spry anymore, and he had come to the conclusion long ago that he would just stay with his family and help them until he no longer could – but that didn’t mean it hurt any less. It was much easier to just avoid the subject entirely.

Medic got up from his seat at the table, chair screeching slightly on the floor and put his hand on Heavy’s back to steady him as he stood. “Well I hope I didn’t touch any nerves, but at any rate I do think it’s getting quite late, Ja? We should head to bed. I’m going to have one hell of a headache in the morning.”

“Da. Good idea.” Heavy lifted himself out of his own seat only to hear a quick yelp before he sent the very unobservant and dizzy medic sliding off of his back and onto the floor.

“Doctor, you alright?!” Heavy whipped around worried for his friend and started to help him up.  Any worries he had about the doctor were immediately put to rest as he heard his friend start to laugh in his usual high-pitched tone.

“Whoopsie!” Medic gave a big laugh and a smile, “I guess I’m more drunk than I thought! You’d think I would have more alcohol tolerance after last years Oktoberfest when I—“

“Doctor?”

“Hmmm yes?”

Heavy chuckled at his drunken friend, “You are missing glasses.”

“Ach, that explains the blurriness. Well, most of it at least.” Medic looked around his feet, wobbling only slightly and reaching for Heavy for balance again. “You mind looking for me, bitte? Honestly, I feel just a tad dizzy.”

“So I see.” Heavy laughed again at his friend, setting him to lean against the nearby table and started looking. He walked to the other side of the table to see if the glasses had slid under when a fairly audible  _ crunch  _ was heard.

Medic and Heavy shared a surprised look, “Where those—?”

Heavy gently lifted his boot to find that yes, that very suspicious crunch was in fact, Medic’s glasses.

He didn’t quite know what to say, so Heavy looked to his friend and answered his question the best he could.

“Da.”

Both of them were silent only for a moment before they started laughing wildly.  Heavy bent down to pick up the small shattered remains of the doctors glasses and brought them over to him still chuckling and used his shoulder sleeve to wipe the tear from his eye.  “Sorry about glasses, Doctor.” Heavy said in between small snorts of laughter, “I can replace them for you?”

Medic let out a small sigh with a smile, “That won’t be necessary, I happen to have an extra pair in my office.” Medic leaned off the table and turned to walk down the hall to his office, but found his world spinning again and grasped Heavy’s forearm. “You look… fairly… stable,” Medic shook his arm testing it, “if you really want to help, you can escort my drunk ass back to my office.”

“Of course Doctor. It’s the least I can do.” Heavy hooked the drunken doctor under his arm, visually reminiscent of the many battles the two had fought together. He considered himself very lucky to have met Medic. Heavy could count on one hand how many people outside of his family he shared a mutual trust with before being hired by Redmond. 

“Now let’s see here…” Medic squinted his eyes looking down the hallway, still glued to Heavy’s arm for balance.  “I’m fairly certain my laboratory is just down this hall. Or at least it was last time I went.” 

Heavy smiled, “Don’t worry, I know where the office is Doctor.”

“ _ Ach  _ yes, of course you do.” Medic tried to adjust his imaginary glasses, “You’re one of the very few that ever come to visit me.”

“Doctor is a very busy man,” He countered, “And weaker men are frightened by you.”

Medic gave a sharp laugh and a wicked smile, “Good.”

The pair slowly stumbled through the double doors leading into Medic’s laboratory and office, Heavy being very careful not to trip over any suspicious looking canisters scattered along the walls. The laboratory was painted grey and red like the rest of the base, but every counter and shelf was stocked with all kinds of mysterious jars and tubs labeled “medical supplies” that obviously didn’t have any real medical supplies in them. The only cleared space in the room was Medic’s desk in the back and the operating table, lit up by the dim factory-like lights overhead.  Even his small couch off to the side had his personal readings stacked upon it along with a covered jar with scrawled german writing. 

Heavy deposits Medic gently into his desk chair, to which he immediately leans back a bit too far, just barely catching himself in time from toppling backwards. 

“Doctor please,” Heavy laughs, “Do not fall again. I don’t want to carry you  _ everywhere _ .”

Medic closed his eyes and got comfortable. He sighed, “Misha, if I knew you were going to offer to carry me if I got drunk off my ass, I would’ve bought those imported beers ages ago.”

Heavy started shifting through Medic’s desk drawers looking for the pair of spare glasses and made a quick glance to the doctor,  “Ah, but I already carry you enough during battle, hm?”

“You carry  _ me _ ?”, Medic opened his eyes and sat up straighter in his seat smiling wide, it was rare that Heavy teased. A treat really, considering how much Medic loved to bicker. “I believe if it wasn’t for me, you and the rest of those dummkopfs would be filled with holes or burnt to a crisp!” 

Pulling out another drawer, Heavy finds the doctors spare glasses and carefully takes them out of their case and sets them on medic’s face, making sure to be extra gentle this time with them. He smiles and adjusts them slightly, then lifts his arms in mocking surrender. “Da, is only joke. I’m very grateful for Doctor.” 

Medic blinks a few times and adjusts the glasses on his face himself as Heavy backs up, giving him some space. He smiles again, but this time much more genuinely, “Ah, that’s much better, danke.” 

Heavy yawns, “Is no problem. Anything else?”

“You’re too kind for your own good you know.” Medic points at him. “If you keep asking I’m just going to keep you around to do all my chores.” he laughs, “but if you really want to help you can start by clearing off the couch, I’ll just lay there for the night.”

Heavy walks to the couch and starts picking the heavy books off the couch and putting them in a neat pile at its feet. “Doctor must be very tired to not sleep in own bed.”

He leaned in his chair again resting his eyes, “More like I’ll be taking a short nap and be preforming a rather buzzed surgery in a few hours.”

Heavy lifts the container from the couch with the scrawled german writing— or at least he thinks it's german. Medic’s handwriting is so sloppy he sometimes can’t tell whether it's in german or english. “What is this?” He asks holding it up to the light to try and see past the paper wrapping.

Medic slowly opens his eyes squinting at the light, “Oh that? That’s urm…”, He takes a moment to think, resting his eyes again. “Demo’s liver I think. Or at least I’m pretty sure.”

He glances from the container back to Medic slightly distressed, but well versed in this sort of thing. “Doesn’t he need it?”

“Oh absolutely.” He laughs to himself, “Looking back, no wonder he was so quiet after a few drinks.” Medic opens his eyes at the slight silence to see the concerned look on his friends face and he sighs, “Don’t worry, a few trips to the respawn won’t hurt him. I said I was doing a surgery tomorrow, no? I’ll make it up to him and give him two livers in the morning.”

Heavy laughs at this and sets the jar aside, “Ah, seems fair enough.” Having finished clearing off the couch, he walks over to the doctor’s desk chair once more and silently offers out an arm for balance.

Medic slowly rises and takes his arm graciously. “Ah, thank you, you're much too nice to me my friend.” 

They walk slowly together, Heavy making sure the doctor doesn’t trip on the piles of books and paperwork.

“You know,” Medic starts with a more more sleepy version of one of his signature smiles, “I sometimes sincerely wish you were more like me Misha.”

Heavy looks down at the doctor quizzically, unhooking him from his arm to lay him down on the couch, “Like you?”

Medic leaned back into the plush couch soaking in its warmth and enjoying the comfort. “Oh come now don’t me say it, you practically have me wrapped around your finger.” 

Inwardly Medic stiffened, but only let it show in the slightest twitch of his eyebrow.  _ Why the hell did he say that? _

Heavy stood by the couch awkwardly, not quite knowing what the doctor was trying to get at. “I do not understand this phrase.”

Silence. Medic had gotten this far in his career without having people find out about his cover. He wasn’t about to let it come tumbling out of his mouth today.  Medic tried slowing his breaths, maybe he could feign sleep and pretend this all never happened.

“Doctor. I know you are not asleep.”

He quickly reasoned with himself, Heavy was his best friend and comrade, but he had no idea the stance he had on this particular subject. Sure if he were to get violent that would only mean a trip the respawn— death had no meaning to them out here in the badlands, but if he told the others? Medic would lose the best job he’s had in years.  Word would spread just like it did last time, but this time he didn’t have a backup plan. 

_ But Misha would never do these things.  _ He thought to himself. The quiet man that stood before him was the same man that would sit in his laboratory to read and listen to soft music.  The same quiet man he protected and trusted his throwaway life to on the battlefield. And the same quiet man he would catch sometimes trying to timidly coo his doves down from their rafters so that he could feed them.

Medic took in a audibly shaky breath and opened his eyes, giving a fake laugh. “Ah, you caught me, I was just kidding with you.”

Heavy looked at him skeptically and silently raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

Medic nervously started to play with his hands, looking everywhere else but at his friend, “Can I tell you a secret?”

His answer was quick, “Of course.”

“I…”, Medic trailed off. This was a bad idea. His mind began to wildly over think scenarios all in which he lost everything. He was very visibly torn, it was the first time in years that the man had looked so incredibly uncomfortable.

Heavy lifted his hand in protest. “Doctor, it’s fine.” 

Medic looked back to Heavy nervous and confused. His face was neutral, but still carried his usual warmth with it. “You are tired. Sleep, and you tell me in the morning if you’d like.”

Relief washed across Medic’s face and he let out the smallest of shaky sighs.  _ It’s better this way,  _ he reasoned with himself.  

Heavy gave him a silent understanding smile and walked towards the door, “Goodnight Doctor. I will see you in the morning.”

“Goodnight my friend."

The door closed behind Heavy with a quietly echoed thud, effectively leaving Medic alone with his thoughts. He felt the frustration build in his throat, and the dull pain that comes along with it. Here he was, the clever, dignified man he had always strove to be, filled with a feeling that only be described as shameful anger.

He let out a long sigh and turned onto his side, the least he could do was try to get some sleep.  And to top the night off, right before he closed his eyes for the night, Medic spotted the large beer stain on the sleeve of his favorite white undershirt.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chapter in which medic lets himself be happy and heavy is a good boy™

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can you mcfreakin believe im back from school oh my goodness so sorry this took so long to come out/// enjoy!

Saturdays were the one day of the week that Soldier would be kind enough as to allow the whole team to actually sleep in. This was mostly because Soldier himself was not immune to the occasional hangover (even the best of men needed their rest), but also because he was pretty sure it was these Saturday mornings that kept everyone from each other's throats.  He reasoned that most of these maggots never fought in a real war anyway, and that this pansy nine to five job fighting over gravel was about the toughest thing they’ve ever done.

 

So Soldier was understandably surprised to find Medic not only awake and alert when he woke up early that morning, but to find him absolutely _pissed_.

 

Truthfully, Soldier heard Medic before he saw him. Walking up to the dining area of red base still in his camouflage pajamas, Soldier heard the tell tale signs of a very angry german.  These signs included, well, angry german, the slamming of multiple cabinets and the harsh noises of kitchenware being thrown about.

 

Soldier made his way around the small wall that divided the hallway and the kitchen, tipping his helmet just the slightest bit upwards, and stomped into the domestic warzone.

 

“Everything in order, comrade?” Soldier shouted while peering over Medic’s shoulder with little concern of personal boundaries. Medic winced at the loud man standing next to him, still fiddling with the toaster oven with two very sad looking room temperature pieces of bread stuck inside.

 

Medic visibly bristled from the closeness and gave Soldier a very threatening side eye. “Don’t you have guns to reload or something?”

 

Soldier, to Medic’s dismay, wasn’t exactly the best at picking up social cues. So he stood there with a rough hand over his chin peering at the toaster with about as much focus as he could muster.

 

“Soldier, I don’t have the energy right now to deal with-”

 

“ _AHA!_ ” Soldier interrupted triumphantly, physically moving Medic out of the way to take the cord from the toaster and plug it into the light socket to his left, making the timer come to life and the coils to start to warm up. He smiled widely back at Medic. “It’s alright comrade, I got the situation all under control.”

 

He deadpanned. Trying to fix a toaster for last fifteen minutes that wasn’t even plugged in was not one of Medic’s shining moments, let alone looking like idiot in front of _Soldier_.

 

Soldier roughly threw his arm around Medics shoulder, his gravely voice much too loud and close to him this early in the morning. “No worries comrade! We all have our off days, just be thankful to the great god above it wasn’t during the war! Then instead of cold bread you'd have your head blown off!”

 

And if it was possible that Medic could put on any more of a sour expression, it was certainly showing here. He huffed and roughly pushed Soldier’s arm off of him, turning to the cabinets to grab some medicine for his growing migraine. Soldier stood awkwardly still, rubbing his hands with a quizzical expression before glanced over the clock and audibly gasped, running over to the fridge and messily putting together a bowl of off-brand lucky charms.

 

“Sorry son, I’d like to stay and chat, but this G.I. is missing out on his weekly intel and- “ Soldier ends up spilling half of his cereal on the counter as he glances towards the clock again and grumbles, “Oh nevermind!”

 

He makes sure to pat Medic on the back as he full on dashes out of the kitchen and heads down the hall assumably towards the lobby, leaving the Doctor and Soldier’s spilt cereal all alone. Medic sighs deeply hoping his medicine starts to kick in soon— the day hasn’t even truly started yet and he’s already at the end of his rope. _It’s just going to be one of those days,_ he thinks as he sits down at the table at the end of the kitchen rubs the sleep from his face.

 

“Rough morning?”

 

Medic recognizes the deep voice and removes his hands from his face to see the large russian man walking into the kitchen in his casual wear, a sympathetic look on his face.

 

Medic rolls his eyes, but has a hard time trying not to smile seeing his friend, “You have no idea.”

 

“Everything is alright with Soldier?” Heavy asks as he glances at the mess of soggy cereal and walks over to the fridge and peaks inside.

 

Medic internally sighs with relief that Heavy isn’t bringing up last night quite yet. “I think so? The idiot ran off talking about some Intel or something.”

 

“Ah.” Is all Heavy says as he closes the fridge now looking in the cabinets for something to eat. “Soldier likes those, uh...” He pauses, searching for the word, “cartoons.”

 

“Cartoons? Like for children?”

 

Heavy grabs various items from the cabinet and setting them down gently, “Da, he watches them with Scout sometimes on mornings. He likes the violent one with the rabbit.” He peaks out behind the cabinet door and looks at Medic from across the kitchen, “But tell me about your morning.”

 

Medic sighs again, knitting his brows, “My morning has just been a whirlwind of inconveniences.”

 

He then starts a long winded explanation of every minor annoyance that he had encountered in the morning starting with waking up, tripping over, and breaking several jars of unknown organs to just now having to deal with Soldier and the cursed toaster. Heavy stood listening and making his own breakfast and took the seat just to Medic’s left.

 

Medic stopped mid-sentence, “Is that my toast?”

 

“Da, they burned so I put in more for you. Knew you like them lightly toasted instead.” He says as he chews the jam topped toast.

 

Medic smiles, “Sounds more like an excuse to take my breakfast.”

 

Heavy takes another bite and points to him, “You may be right.”

 

Other than Medics small laugh they fall into a comfortable silence. He looks forward to these moments honestly. These small tidbits of normality help Medic’s psyche, and he always enjoys Heavy’s quiet presence especially. His mind idly daydreams of place where in which these little moments are a commonplace. Medic thinks of a warm front porch where he can sip tea in peace with his birds, of course his unconventional hobbies are stored in the large shed out back, but the front of his imaginary house is immaculate. He thinks about all the crazy rumors the neighbors would make up about him and grins, _how wonderful_ , he thinks. In his dream, Medic turns to his left to find that _he’s_ there too, because of course he is, how could he not be? The sunlight behind him bounces so nicely off of his warm smile and kind eyes. He stops reading to turn to Medic and it's instantly clear — he’s happy to be there with him too. And strangely, none of it is overwhelming, as if they’d both been there for years and this was just another morning.

 

Medic hears the loud ding and the smell of toast that snaps him back into reality. Beside him, Heavy lifts a hand to Medic silently signaling him to stay seated and gets up to retrieve the toast. He watches as Heavy walks over and he silently curses himself in his own embarrassment. Heavy asks what he wants on his toast, but Medic doesn’t even hear him the first time, and then quickly answers the second time.

 

“Doctor must be very tired.” Heavy says as he comes back with Medic’s toast. Medic rubbing his face again only grunts in agreement as Heavy sets down the plate and settles down next to him. He stays quiet a moment and then looks to Medic, “Is about last night?”

 

And there it is.

 

Medic takes a moment to breathe before shoving a piece of toast in his mouth just to try to somehow delay this conversation further. But eventually, the toast is swallowed and Heavy is still waiting for any kind of an answer. He hesitates, hoping Heavy will speak up and tell him that they don't have to talk about it, but it never comes, he just sits there patiently waiting.

 

Heavy looks away from him and huffs, “Did I do something?”

 

Medic becomes frustrated with himself, frustrated with this whole thing, “No, you're fine. I just-”

 

“Then what is problem?”

 

Medic glances around the room making sure no one else is around and leans in closer, talking in a harsh whisper, “The problem is this isn’t just something I can go around telling just anyone.” He looks down, “Just... promise me you won’t tell the others.”

 

Heavy backs away from the Doctor and looks at him skeptically. Again the Doctor looks so cowardly, so pathetic and it hurts him just like it did last night.  Such a proud and dignified man turned to a fearful mess just at the mention of this secret of his.

 

Heavy looks at him seriously, “Is anyone in danger? Are there bad men?”

 

He laughs bitterly, “I assure you the only one in danger is myself, my friend.”

 

“Then I promise.” He says still staring at Medic intensely.

 

Medic starts to play with the ring on his finger and sighs, “My wife,” he starts, “is my wife officially, but we have never loved each other— or at least not in the usual way.” He looks to Heavy whose face is still so steady listening to his every word. “You could say she was in a similar situation as my own… we were both a tad _unconventional_ so to speak. After we fled Germany, we went our separate ways and a long story short after a falling out with my old partner I ended up here.”

 

Heavy nods slowly to all of this not changing his expression and takes in a breath, “So you are gay?”

 

Medic practically launches himself at Heavy, covering his mouth from speaking and keeps his voice down to a harsh whisper, “Keep it down would you?!” Heavy lets out a small laugh at his reaction underneath Medic’s hands that makes him all the more angry, “You think this is some kind of joke?!

 

His hand comes up and releases Medic’s vice grip on his mouth, “No, is no joke. Just thought that Doctor had something much more… troublesome to tell.” Heavy gives a reassuring smile, “This is fine. Won’t tell anyone.”

 

“Thank you.” Is all he awkwardly manages to say. Medic somehow always knew that his friend would be accepting of him, but hearing it is a different story entirely. He stares for a bit at the very sincere face in front of him and it reminds him again that Heavy isn’t lying. Medic breaks into a expression of happy relief and laughs in spite of everything.

 

“Hey big guy— Oh, am I interrupting something, mate?”

 

The question comes from the entrance of the kitchen from a slightly startled Sniper. Medic suddenly realizes Heavy is still holding his hand from when he moved it off his mouth and nearly smacks himself in the face trying to pry it away.

 

Heavy also seems nervous as he suddenly pipes up, “Ah Sniper! We were just playing Rock, Paper, Scissors!”

 

Medic quickly shoves some toast in his mouth to avoid talking altogether, but nods approvingly. Sniper looks at them both with his usual grumpy expression, “Doesn’t look like Rock, Paper, Scissors to me.” he says plainly.  

 

“European rules.” Heavy responds immediately and Medic nearly chokes on his toast.

 

Sniper perks up at this, “No kidding? You’ll have to show us a round sometime, maybe I can beat that bloody spook at his own game.” He clears his throat, “But that's not why I’m here, turns out you got a package from Russia big guy. Truckie sent me to get you.”

 

Heavy stands quickly, all happiness drained from his face, “Everything is alright?”

 

Sniper smiles coolly, “Yeah, everything seems to be in order, no emergency calls or nothing. Just a big ass package addressed to you, no need for worry.”

 

He holds his heart and lets out a huge sigh of relief. “Thank you, will be there soon.”

 

Sniper salutes him quickly with a nod of his hat and leaves just as quickly as he appeared. Heavy turns back to Medic who now is sporting his signature grin, “European rules, huh? I did not think you were one to lie so quickly.”

 

Heavy laughs at him, lifting his arms in defeat, “Well I did not see you speaking up! Heavy is good at many things!”

 

“Now I never said it was a _good_ lie.” Medic laughs.

 

“You insult me Doctor!” He mocks holding his chest, “You hurt me, Heavy will never recover.”

 

Medic rolls his eyes, “Don’t be so melodramatic, I’m sure you’ll live.”

 

“Doctor does not know this for sure.” Heavy says sitting back in his chair still pretending to be wounded by the man’s comments.

 

They share jokes over the rest of Medic’s breakfast and just like that, everything seems to be normal again. When they walk over to Engineer’s workshop to check out Heavy’s package, they idly talk about things neither of them will really remember later, but it feels natural.  Medic mentally scoffs at his past self for getting so worked up about all of this, and decides to not only put this whole mess in the past, but to make it up to Heavy somehow. He’ll have to think on it later.

 

When the pair walk into the cluttered workshop, Engie is nowhere to be found, but the package sits tantalizingly on the counter next to an intimidatingly large wall of tools. Heavy walks up to the package and reads that yes, it is from his family back in Siberia. He winces, Heavy knows it must have cost a fortune to send it, but also he knows its because of him that they can even send it in the first place and his overall excitement to have something from his home is hard to contain.

 

“Engineer?” Heavy calls out, perhaps a tad too loud in his happy state.

 

They hear a small crash and the sharp sound of dropped tools preceded by angry cursing under the machinery to the left of them. Engie rolls out from underneath the large machine rubbing his elbow and glances up at the pair confused mercenaries looking down at him.

 

Engie lifts the goggles off of his face to look at the two, then hisses and goes back to nursing his elbow, “Oh hey fellas if ya lookin for ya mail it’s right on over there.” He says pointing to the large box.

 

“Nothing to sign?” Heavy asks.

 

“Nah, I got it all sorted out for ya fella, go on ahead and dig in.” Engie smiles and slides himself back underneath his machine and pushing his goggles back on.

 

Heavy looks reminiscent of a child on Christmas morning smiling widely as he tries to open package without breaking anything inside. Medic stands just behind him, glancing over his shoulder curious as to the contents inside, the first item being a letter written in russian that Heavy reads over carefully. When he’s finished reading it, he laughs and gently places it off to the side and moves the wrapping to pull the rest of the contents from the box.

 

He turns to Medic, “Mama and sisters are very nice, they sent us gifts!” He pulls a large brown bear fur hat and places it on his head and poses, “See? _Very_ nice!”

 

Medic quirks an eyebrow and smiles, “Yes very nice, but you said us? She sent things for me?”

 

“For everyone!” He practically yells, “She make hats for whole team!”

 

Heavy pulls each hat out carefully one by one and places them on the counter, all of them looking fairly similar until he grabs one that's slightly different and hands it to Medic. Medic turns the plush hat around in his hands and sees the large red medical plus sign stitched onto the front.

 

Medic smiles running his fingers over the delicate stitching, “It’s lovely.” is all he manages to say at first feeling his chest fill with warmth. He looks up to Heavy hesitantly joyful, “You talk about me with her?”

 

“Of course!” Heavy replies earnestly, patting his back, “I tell her all about you, about how we work well together and how we are friends.” he picks up and starts looking over his letter again, “I tell her about you being a great Doctor. She is very grateful!”

 

Heavy then hands him the last paper in his letter and he finds that it’s in English. Some of the letters are slanted slightly, but it reads, “ _Thank you for taking care of my Misha. I hope this keeps you warm.”_ along with the sweet signatures of who he guesses is Heavy’s mother and sister’s and a small drawn heart.

 

It’s a lot for him to process honestly, Medic can’t remember the last time he received such a heartfelt gift, and from people he’s never even met no less. And more than that, Heavy bragged about him to his family. His family he loves with his entire being and only has very limited call times with, and he found time to talk about _him_. He looks at the smiling giant who’s now putting all the hats back into the box to distribute later and finds himself completely enamored with the man. For the first time, Medic allows himself this happiness and gets lost in the feeling and it’s _wonderful_.

 

“You like it, Da?” Heavy asks as he packages the last hat.

 

Medic blinks, and focuses back on him, “I love it.” He answers honestly, “But don’t you think it might be a little hot to wear out here in the desert though?”

 

“Maybe.” Heavy answers as he plucks the hat from Medic’s hands and places it on his head, “But is not for here.”

 

“No?”

 

“No.” Heavy smiles, “Is for Russia.”

 

Medic gives him a confused look and Heavy laughs, “Is in letter,” He explains, “My little sister Bronislava is getting married!” Heavy then stops for a moment giving a more disapproving look, “I do not like the man, but I have been told is not for me to decide.” he sighs, “Is fine, I am happy to go home for short while.”

 

Medic ponders this for a moment, “You think they’ll really let you go home for this?”

 

“Da, already talked to Miss Pauling. She is pulling the strings for me.” He replies, “I asked long ago when we were starting planning and now we have date. Whole team will be coming.”

 

Medic takes his hat off, thoroughly impressed, “Seems like you have everything under control then, of course I would expect nothing less.”

 

After pulling Engie out from underneath his machine to give him his hat and tell him the news— turns out he was in such a trance working he hadn’t even heard a thing they talked about, they walked around base finding everyone and spreading the news. Needless to say, the idea of an upcoming get away was more than well received with most, the only exceptions being Soldier and Scout, with them worried about the communist influence and having to stick around for all the “girly stuff” respectively.

 

Miss Pauling called that night to update the team on the whole situation. Turns out BLU team had been wanting a vacation too, so for the time they would be gone, Miss Pauling arranged for the matches to be withheld for the week they’d be gone, despite The Administrator’s reluctance to do so. Of course there were rules in all this, confidentiality and all that, and since BLU was staying on base for their time off, Miss Pauling was instructed to follow RED and monitor the during their time off base. Heavy was glad to hear that she was happy to come as well, and although she didn’t explicitly say so, he could hear it in her voice.

  
With the whole team more or less excited for the trip in one way or another, Miss Pauling announced the date of their plane trip over. They were to leave in two weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!!!
> 
> Hey finals are over and im finally home!! which means things will com along faster from now on!! hopefully!! also I have my art up in a few places, so if thats something you guys would be interested in, I'm making a TF2 specific blog to throw up all my shit on soon, and ill link to my other stuff 
> 
> Also I dont have really anyone to look over my work to help with crit and review and if youd be interested in something like that, i would more than appreciate the help!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they are gay and so am i (AKA the chapter ive been wanting to write since the i first thought of this fic)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey this chapter is out early as an apology of the last one taking so long! Hope you all like it!

Despite what many may think, Heavy is not nearly as stupid as he seems. For starters, he had studied very little English until he found himself fighting in the United States, and so his limited vocabulary gives others the ignorant impression that he unintelligent. 

 

Truthfully, when he was a boy, Heavy loved to read and write many tales about brave heroes on fantastical adventures. As he grew, he never really strayed from his hobbies, and if he were to judge, he’d say he was pretty decent at writing stories in his mothertongue. The only person who seemed to understand this language disconnect was Medic, and this was probably because he had faced the very same barrier in his earlier years. 

 

So it’s only natural that Heavy would understand right away what Medic was trying to tell him at the table that morning while spinning his ring on his finger and nervously explaining his situation.  He had to be sure, but when Medic confirmed his suspicions he couldn't help but let out a small laugh of relief. Of course he would now be keeping an eye out for his friend, more so than in their usual battles, but Heavy felt the weight lift off of his shoulders that he could’ve been the reason for all of his pain.

 

Reflecting on it later however, Heavy thinks he laughed for other reasons. He can’t help but realize that the whole revelation made him happy, and it worries him more than anything. Not in an immediate danger type of worry, but more like a feeling of already knowing an answer, but continuing to deny it.

 

Heavy knows what it is, and as much as it hates to admit it, it very much frightens him. He lies awake thinking of the long day they’d had, and he finds his mind replaying the parts in which Medic looked the happiest. Heavy rubbed his eyes trying not to remember just how Medic’s face would crinkle around his eyes and nose when he genuinely smiled or how his glasses tended to slide down his nose when he laughed. 

 

Rest doesn’t come easy that night and in the morning, Heavy secretly finds himself disappointed he couldn’t remember his dream. He tries to shake the small feeling of jealousy towards those lucky enough to experience their fantasies in their sleep. 

 

Heavy trains all his Sunday away. The Doctor comes to visit him halfway through to bring some lunch out to the training fields.  They sit together and talk about the trip mostly, what they should bring and the whatnot, nothing of any real substance. Heavy goes to bed that night his mind wandering, seemingly searching for something, but he doesn’t quite find it before he finally falls asleep.

 

That night, he does dream. Everything is in hazy colors of maroon and white, figures and features seemingly blended together.  He looks down to find he’s in a suit he’s never seen, it’s much fancier than anything he’s even owned and more than that, it actually fits him nicely. In the background a piano plays, but the source of it is nowhere to be found. Heavy walks out into the large white ballroom and the crowd backs away from him except for one figure facing away. As Heavy walks up to the figure, he places a hand to his shoulder and recognizes that it's  _ him _ , because of course it is, who else could it possibly be?

 

“May I have this dance my friend?” The figure asks, hand outstretched in an invitation to Heavy. He looks absolutely dashing as always.

 

Heavy accepts his request, taking his hand into his own and starting the soft waltz out slowly. He doesn’t ever remember learning how to dance like this, but he doesn’t seem to care. Right now he’s much more interested with the man spinning along with him, the confident and tight smile on his lips that still wrinkle at the corners, his eyes closed completely trusting the other, and the humming of the unrecognizable melody that comes from the piano. 

 

The music slows and eventually the dance comes to an end. “You really do look handsome tonight Misha.” He says as he glides his thumb over the back of Heavy’s hand, “More so than usual I mean.” 

 

Heavy’s chest does a flip, it’s almost too much for him and he’s left speechless. He can’t seem to find his words, but Heavy notices that the other’s glasses are slightly off-center and he reaches to fix them for him.  The man meets him halfway, and moves his face gently into the touch and sighs, completely enamored by the other. Heavy’s breath catches in his throat as he slides his thumb over the man’s facial features, the slight stubble tickling his hand. 

 

He’s so close he can smell his aftershave when the man slowly opens his eyes and speaks up again, “What is it you want my love?”

 

Heavy doesn’t know, this is all too much, he can’t think and his breath quickens. He looks around nervously and the other figures are all staring at him waiting for an answer as well. The piano starts up again with the same unrecognizable tune and Heavy looks back at him, “Another dance?” Heavy asks.

 

“Of course.” He smiles, and they start slowly again into the same dance they’d just done minutes ago, but Heavy doesn’t mind; it’s just as wonderful as the first time.  They glide across the ballroom together, and Heavy finds himself humming the melody too.

 

Heavy begrudgingly wakes up to his loud and blaring alarm that morning. He rubs his face remembering his dream, and he feels embarrassment in the amount of happiness it brings him. His sisters must be rubbing on on him, he thinks. 

 

He laughs at himself while getting ready.  _ Dancing? _   Really? Heavy was one to love those in his life deeply, but he never considered himself some kind of hopeless romantic.  The thought occurs to him however, that he doesn’t actually know how to dance like that anyway. Another thought reminds him that he has a wedding to go to in two weeks and he  _ should  _ know to dance like that. In fact, he doesn’t think he’s very prepared for this wedding at all.

 

“What do you mean you don’t own a tuxedo?” Spy asks later that evening after the matches of the day at dinner.

 

“Have nice dress shirt. I’ll just wear that.” Heavy responds trying to put the argument to rest.

 

Spy rolls his eyes, “A dress shirt he says.” he mumbles, then clears his throat to speak up, “Look, if you have any pride at all you can’t just show up to a wedding in a dress shirt.” 

 

Sniper pipes up from across the tables, “I don’t see the big deal. Let the man wear whatever he wants.” 

 

“And what will  _ you _ be wearing Bushman?” 

 

“Ain’t this uniform enough?” Sniper asks looking down at himself. 

 

Spy can feel an aneurysm coming on. “No, that's not _ enough.  _ Honestly, out of all you here, how many of you actually have a tailored suit to wear?” 

 

Medic, Demo, and Pyro slowly raise their hands. 

 

Spy looks at Demo skeptically, “Anything with one of those fashion disasters you call a kilt on it doesn’t count.” 

 

Demo looks at him sourly and lowers his hand, “A buncha buzzkills, the lot of ya’.”

 

Scout then looks to his left at the little firebug, “No way! You got a suit Pyro, really?” 

 

They nod quickly and strike a silly dignified pose. “Mmph!” 

 

“Good enough explanation as any.” Scout reasons and goes back to stuffing his mouth full of mashed potatoes. 

 

“So it’s settled then,” Spy speaks up again, cutting his dinner, “I’ll call a tailor that owes me a few favors. He’ll have you all fitted for some tuxedos that’ll make you all look, at the very least, presentable.” 

 

“Now we ain’t gonna be forced to wear no ties are we?” Engie asks politely looking down at his dinner. 

 

Demo elbows him roughly, “Of course there’s gonna be ties! It's a bloody suit!” 

 

Medic lifts a finger in the air knowingly, “Not necessarily, Engineer could wear a bowtie or a cravat if he really wanted too.”

 

“In all do respect Doc,” Engineer states plainly, “You won’t catch me dead in a goddamn bowtie.” 

 

“Just a suggestion. I’m not the one with masculinity issues.” Medic mumbles taking a sip of his water. 

 

Engie points his fork menacingly, “You mind speaking up there Doc? I’m not so sure I heard you right.” 

 

“I said — ” 

 

Heavy interrupts him, “Enough.” He sighs, “Thank you for the suits Spy.” 

 

Spy smiles at the recognition, but also because he finds the small spat between all of them hilarious, “No problem at all. Consider it my treat.” 

 

Soldier, who's been uncharacteristically quiet all evening, raises his hand, “Question!” 

 

Spy sighs, “Yes Soldier?” 

 

“Am I allowed to wear my medals on this formal attire?” He asks with his hand still raised in the air.

 

“Why not?” Spy responds coolly, not really wanting to argue with the man.

 

Soldier salutes Spy seriously and then goes back to scarfing down his meal while simultaneously standing up to grab for more food.

 

They eat the rest of their dinner in some sort of relative peace. Heavy ends up heading to Medic’s lab after he takes a shower and softly knocks on the door before entering. He finds the Doctor still buried in paperwork at his desk in the back of the room.

 

Upon noticing Heavy walk in, Medic sets down his pen and adjusts his glasses, “Oh Misha!”, he gestures to his couch, “Come take a seat my friend, what do you need?”

 

Heavy nervously sinks into the couch and looks at everything in the room but Medic, “I have favor to ask.”, is all he says. 

 

Medic starts absentmindedly filling out paperwork again, “Ask away.”

 

“Well,” He starts, “Was wondering if you know how to dance is all.”

 

Medic looks up from his work at Heavy, clearly confused, “Dance?” 

 

“Da.” Heavy starts to rub his hands nervously together, “Like uh… fancy dance. For wedding.” he explains twirling his finger, “The one that spins.”   

 

Medic looks thoroughly surprised, but goes back to his scribbling, “Oh. I didn’t realize you had someone to dance with at this wedding.” 

 

“I don't.” He corrects quickly and sighs, “Just want to know how.” 

 

That finally gets Medic to set his pen down, and he takes a moment to collect his thoughts, “Well if that’s the case, then I do believe you’ve come to right place. I happened to be quite the dancer back in the day.” he poses proudly at his desk and stands to go through the small bookshelf with records behind him, “It’ll be just a moment, I’ll have to pick something suitable for beginners.” He turns to him with a grin, “Don’t just think you can  _ waltz _ on into my office and think I’d be ready for this sort of thing immediately.” he chuckles lightly.

 

Heavy just looks at him, “I did not think this. Take your time.” 

 

“No, no,” Medic starts, “You see, it’s a joke. Based off of the double connotation of the English word of the dance you were speaking of — ” Medic can tell from Heavy’s face he’s trying to look amused for his sake and he goes back to looking through his records, “Ach, nevermind. The dance you're looking for is called a waltz though.” 

 

As Medic goes through his records, he can hear Heavy softly repeating the word, keeping it to memory. “Ah, here’s a good one! It’s a fairly recent Russian classic, so you might actually recognize the tune.” he says as he lifts the record triumphantly. 

 

Medic places the scratch on the record and room fills with music, it sounds dignified with an aire of mystery, yet somehow still silly in its own way. Heavy doesn’t ever remember hearing the piece, but it certainly is Russian, and it reminds him of home. 

 

“Is very good choice.” Is all Heavy says as he stands from the couch awkwardly. 

 

“I know right?” Medic smiles and steps towards him, “Now since I’m assuming you’ve never danced like this before, so I’ll be taking the lead?” 

 

Heavy swallows thickly, “Da.”

 

“No need to be, uh, nervous.” Medic clears his throat, “Just stand up straight and take my hand.” he says as he outstretches his hand out to Heavy. Medic curses himself mentally, his hand is definitely shaking.

 

Heavy takes a breath and then grabs the Doctor’s hand gently in his own. “Good.” Medic starts, “Now since I’ll be leading, you put your other hand on my shoulder.” 

 

“Like this?” Heavy asks awkwardly as his hand settles on Medic. 

 

“Precisely.” Medic then takes his other hand to hold Heavy’s lower back, “Then as the lead I’ll hold your waist and — ” He pauses and then lets go of Heavy seriously, stepping back, “I’m sorry, I’m not overstepping any boundaries am I? ” 

 

“Doctor is fine. I asked you for this.” Heavy reassures him. 

 

Medic lets out a sigh of relief, adjusting his glasses, “Right, of course. My apologies, where were we?” He asks rhetorically as he steps back into position.

 

“Alright so,” Medic starts to explain, “A waltz is a dance based around a pattern of three.” Medic closes his eyes and taps his finger against Heavy’s hand as he counts off with the music for a while, “You see? It’s a fairly easy rhythm to follow, now you just have to put your feet to the rhythm as well. All you’ll have to do is follow my steps, we’ll start slow for now so you can get the feel of it.” 

 

“Wait!” Heavy asks nervously, “What about your toes?”

 

Medic is at a loss for words, “My toes?”

 

“Yes.” Heavy looks at him very seriously, “ What if I step on them?”

 

He laughs and pats Heavy’s lower back lightly, “I’m a strong man Misha, I’m sure I’ll be fine, now just take some deep breaths and follow my lead.” 

 

He starts to lead Heavy through the waltz slowly. Truthfully, Heavy is very nervous and clumsy, but Medic can tell he’s trying his best.  He does end up stepping on Medic’s toes, and then after apologizing profusely, he can’t stop looking at his feet to make sure it doesn’t happen again. 

 

Medic quickly lets go of Heavy’s hand to lift his chin from staring at the ground, “Relax. Just listen to the music and look at me. I’ll be fine.” 

 

It takes awhile, and after resetting the record a multitude of times, Medic finally gets Heavy to dance at the same tempo as the song without any frequent mistakes. As the song picks up in intesity for the uptenth time that night, Medic holds Heavy closer and gets lost in the feeling.

 

Heavy looks down to find the Doctor pulling them into a tighter spin, with the sweetest, most genuine expression of happiness he thinks he’s ever seen on the man, and Heavy finds himself completely mesmerized by his smile that still crinkle at the corners.

 

“You see!” Medic says as they dance, eyes closed feeling the music, “You're quite the natural, my friend.”

 

Heavy nervously laughs and squeezes their hands, “Not so sure natural is the right term. Been here all night.” 

 

Medic opens his eyes in surprise, “Really? I haven’t noticed at all.” 

 

They slow to a stop to look at the time. It’s late, and they both have work in the morning, but Medic doesn’t let go, he doesn’t want to, this night has been the best one he’s had in ages. “One more dance.” he pleads, but it doesn’t sound like a question, it sounds more like a desperate order. 

 

Heavy can’t respond right away, he’s too busy trying to commit Medic’s expression to memory. He can’t help but remember his dream, and his whole body hums with an intense feeling of warmth. He places his hand back on Medic’s shoulder, rubbing it affectionately, “Anything for Doctor.” 

 

Medic smiles genuinely again, and leads them back into one last dance. This time, they both stand straighter, prouder as they start to spin. It’s an incredible feeling, and it’s entirely mutual in every conceivable way. They find themselves lost in the music through the entire song and when it slows to an end, Medic quietly shuffles over to the record and restarts it, none of them saying a word before joining hands and picking up right where they left off.  Neither of them mind, and Medic gets so deep into the feeling he starts to hum and rests his forehead on Heavy’s shoulder, despite him being the lead. 

 

Eventually the song does end again, but this time they both know they really should part ways for the night. They both stop dancing, but stay together for a moment before parting. 

 

Medic looks back at Heavy so desperately lovingly it hurts; he’s searching for a sign. Heavy finds himself wondering how lucky he is to ever encounter such an incredible man, and in that moment, Medic wonders the same.

 

Medic clears his throat, “I… do have some more paperwork to attend to tonight, so I really must get back to that.” he pauses, “ But maybe tomorrow evening I can teach you how to lead?” 

 

Heavy nods, “Would like that very much Doctor.” 

 

Medic pats Heavy's shoulders once more before heading back to his desk, “Well then, goodnight my friend.” 

 

“Goodnight.” 

 

Heavy leaves Medic’s office and subconsciously grabs at his chest, finally able to breath normally. Despite it being more than an extraordinary night, Heavy could feel himself being tense for the bulk of it. He takes some more deep breaths on the way to his room, replaying the time he had with Medic in his head.  His whole being is filled with an amount of pure happiness he hasn’t felt since his younger days. 

  
As he settles in for the night, and he really can’t help but smile. He doesn’t dream that night, but he wakes up and figures it’s alright, he didn’t need to. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and all the support!!! It's been very humbling and validating to get such nice responses, seriously, thank you all so much/// <3
> 
> psst btw the song i used for reference for the dance they had outside of the dream was Dmitri Shostakovich's Waltz No. 2 which is super pleasant if you haven't heard it


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> medic sprains his ankle in an incredible /twist/ 
> 
> ba dum cha

Medic badly twists ankle on the battlefield the next day. Trying to keep up with their Scout, he ends up tripping down the last few stairs out of their base, loudly cursing on his way to the floor. By no means is it a huge issue, his medigun fixes the torn muscles with ease, but the soreness stays after the team walks off the battlegrounds for the day. He makes sure to mention to Scout that it’s his fault he fell. Scout finally admits he _ might _ have had something to do with it after the tenth time Medic lectures him on the whole thing. 

 

“You’re just too old and slow. Not my problem you can’t keep up!” Scout casually explains right before he gets knocked upside the head by Medic’s glove. 

 

So he retires to his room before dinner.  Medic knows he has paperwork to do, and he only got to maybe a third of everything he needed to get done last night after dancing away his troubles, but he can’t find it in himself to care. He’s in one of his infamous bad moods, the scowl on his face deep set and ankle still very sore, so he slightly limps past his lab and office in a huff and heads straight for his room.

 

Heavy on the other hand, had a wonderful day. He’s still on cloud nine from the night before, and on the battlefield he runs faster and fights harder. He nods to Medic halfway through the day with a large grin on his face while watches the doctor follow after Soldier and Scout to the other side of the area. He hadn’t really seen him since, but he managed on his own just fine for the day.

 

Feeling proud of himself, Heavy borderline struts back into base, heading for the kitchen. He’ll stop by and have a quick meal, then head off for the showers and then to Medic’s office. Heavy sighs deeply, he can't wait to see his friend again and more than that, he can’t wait to see Medic smile like that again. 

 

Except Heavy doesn’t see Medic at dinner. Or at the showers, or at the locker room, or in his office after he stands waiting outside for five minutes knocking. Medic was known to be punctual, so it makes Heavy worry. When he walks into the office, he finds nothing but old paperwork and those mysterious jars all over the place. He ends up waiting on the couch for another ten minutes or so, before the worry building in his chest gets to be too much and decides to head towards the Doctor’s room.

 

In all honesty, as Heavy heads down the hallway to Medic’s room, he feels a bit of anger within all of his worry. If Medic didn’t enjoy their lessons then why didn’t he just tell him? Why go through the drama of just hiding away to avoid it entirely? 

 

Heavy scolds himself for these thoughts, of course Medic wouldn’t do something like that. Medic is a strong man built on his own strict twisted morals, but Heavy’s thoughts still manage to wiggle their way inside his head, making him feel a tad guilty for even thinking them in the first place. 

 

Heavy knocks on the door loudly, startling the poor doctor inside and causing him jolt from his bed nearly dropping his book. He collects himself angrily, his voice muffled slightly from the door, “What?! What do you want?” 

 

The harsh tone surprises Heavy, “Doctor?” 

 

A short silence followed by the voice, a lot less harsh this time, “Misha?” 

 

“Everything alright? I can come in?” He asks. 

 

Medic sighs, he really can get so cranky sometimes, “Ja, Come in.” 

 

Heavy walks in tentatively, making sure to close the door quietly behind him. He turns to face the Doctor, and looks him over, not quite sure what to say. Medic’s hair is disheveled, a rare sight that probably means it’s been a long, hard day for him.  Heavy stays silent, and looks to the Doctor for him to talk instead. 

 

“So is there something you need or is this just a friendly visit?” He asks, shifting to sit higher on his bed. 

 

“Little of both.” Heavy admits and takes a moment, “You don’t want to dance?”

 

Medic doesn’t say anything, but rather his face transitions from complete confusion, to fast remembrance, to finally guilty realization as he rubs a hand down his face. He had gotten so caught up in his own problems he completely forgot about their deal about tonight. Immediately he feels awful, how could he possibly forget something so important? 

 

He then goes to scratching the back of his head, still looking awfully guilty, “ _ Ach,  _ I really am getting old.” He says solemnly, “I’m sorry, I can’t believe I forgot.” 

 

Heavy still stands awkwardly by the door, “Is fine.” 

 

Medic starts to talk with his hands as he explains, a habit that was mostly reserved for more science based topics, “I just got so caught up with hurting my ankle and stupid Scout, and — ” 

 

“Your ankle?” Heavy interrupts

 

Medic sighs again, “Ja, I twisted it following that  _ dummkophf. _ ” he adds bitterly. 

 

Heavy doesn’t respond right away, but his jaw tenses and his expression becomes just a tad more serious, “But you are fine?” 

 

Medic smiles warmly at his friend’s concern, “Don’t worry, I’m alright. Just a little sore is all.” 

 

He nods at this, his tension releasing now knowing Medic hasn’t hurt himself  _ too _ badly, “Can I sit?” Heavy asks gesturing to the end of the bed.

 

“Oh, of course!” Medic answers quickly moving the sheets out of the way and shifts so they can both sit on the bed horizontally against the wall. Heavy settles down next to him, the bed creaking under his size. 

 

“Ankle is sore,” Heavy starts, “So instead, we can talk.” 

 

“You came here just to talk?” Medic asks surprised.

 

Heavy lifts an eyebrow looking at him, “Is that fine?”

 

“Of course it’s fine.” Medic smiles, “So what do you want to talk about my friend?” 

 

“Doesn’t matter.” 

 

“Well,” He starts, “How about you tell me more about your family? I am going to meet them soon enough.”

 

Heavy takes a moment to think. “You have heard about mama and sisters,” he explains, “So I talk about papa.” 

 

Medic is surprised by this, he doesn’t remember any mention of his father in their letter. “Oh, will he be attending as well?” 

 

“No. He is dead.” Heavy responds plainly, then seeing the slightly shocked look on Medic’s face of the casualness of it all, he backtracks nervously. “Was a good man. Died when we were taken into Gulag.” 

 

So Heavy starts to tell Medic stories about his father. When he was young, his father would tell him about bad, cowardly men, and how they must be stopped. He had looked Heavy in the eye and told him that he would not raise a coward. That he knew Heavy was strong, and that maybe one day he would have to protect others from bad men as well. 

 

If Heavy had to describe his father in one word, it would’ve been stoic. His sister’s were just a tad too young to really remember their father, but he recalls him having the presence that was nothing short of a hero. Heavy remembers how strong his father was, how he would tense his jaw when he was determined to do something, and most of all, he remembers his righteous.

 

Heavy had only just become a young man when his family had been taken into the Gulag labor camps. His father was undoubtedly the reason for their arrest, being one of the main components of the Russian people's rebellion. His father also didn’t get the chance to step foot into a labor camp like the rest of his family, he was instead made an example of. Watching his father be carried off by four men to a firing squad was Heavy’s last memory of him. He remembers his father’s face riddled with guilt for having gotten his family in the mess, but he also remembers how incredibly giant he looked comparatively to his capturers.

 

And although these memories are painful, there's something strangely nostalgic. Not in a warm, comforting way, but more in a way that justs therapeutic to talk about.

 

Medic listens, and it’s a new experience hearing the man talk so much, but it isn’t a bad one by any means. Heavy’s nostalgia over his father is interesting to say the least, and it's very apparent that he had a large influence on who Heavy is today. 

 

“So, if you don’t mind me asking,” Medic breaks in, “How exactly did you escape?” 

 

Heavy smiles, “You doubt Heavy?” 

 

Medic smiles back, “You know what I mean.” 

 

“I had friend.” Heavy closes his eyes to remember, “Very kind man. He helped us.” 

 

Just like when he talked about his father, Heavy then goes into all kinds of different stories about the man that helped his family escape the Gulag. Apparently this man was just a few years older than Heavy at the time, just as big, and was brought to the camps all alone. Despite this, he was a kind man that made sure to give portions of his rations to Heavy’s mother and three younger sisters, as well as help them all with their work when he could. Heavy somehow finds himself smiling at some of the memories, despite the horrible setting in which they took place.

 

“His name was Ivan.” Heavy starts, “One of the best men I have met.” 

 

Medic lifts a brow, “Sounds like it.” 

 

Heavy takes a moment before speaking again, “Want to know secret?” 

 

“Sure.” Medic answers as he leans his head back on the cool concrete wall. 

 

“Never was liked by women,” He starts holding back a grin, “But Heavy liked Ivan.” 

 

The Doctor turns to his friend quickly, trying to process what just came out of his mouth. At Medic’s reaction, Heavy lets a out a loud hearty laugh and grins like a cat. It’s a strange feeling, being able to finally talk about things like this. 

 

“You’re serious?” Medic asks while adjusting his glasses. 

 

Heavy laughs again, “Da.” 

 

Silence grows between the two of them, it's not awkward, but rather it’s filled with Heavy’s small laughter as he watches the gears turn in Medic’s head. Eventually the Doctor smiles as well, and an immense feeling of relief washes over him. 

 

“I can’t believe this.” Medic finally manages to say staring off at nothing in particular, then he looks to Heavy and lightly shoves his shoulder grinning widely, “I can’t believe I told you, and you keep this all to yourself!” 

 

“Was Waiting.” Heavy counters. 

 

Medic laughs, “For what?!” 

Heavy makes a noise that can only be interpreted as “I don't know” as he shrugs his shoulders with the same grin plastered on his face. 

 

“You’re the worst.” Medic replies while still smiling. 

 

Heavy holds his chest, “Again, you hurt me Doctor.” 

 

“Oh god not this again — ”

 

“Heavy will never recover.” He says while feigning death once again, slowly leaning his weight on Medic.

 

Medic starts to push back, “You’ll live.” 

 

The two of them struggle back and forth for awhile until Heavy finally gives up on the act, laughing at the Doctor. When Heavy sits up straight again, Medic comes with him and they end up opposite of their previous positions with Medic now leaning on Heavy’s side.

 

He sighs deeply, “This was nice.” 

 

“Da.” 

 

They both go into another comfortable silence before Heavy speaks up again, swallowing loudly,  “Wish I had met Doctor when I was young.” 

 

Medic looks up to him, his chin still resting on him, “And why is that?” 

 

“Would have more time.” Heavy says simply.

 

Medic just hums in agreement, trying to savor the somber moment. Even though Heavy’s statement is vague, Medic understands it immediately. More time for the both of them; more time to do so many more things. They weren’t completely wrinkled old men quite yet, but they certainly weren’t young. Medic closes his eyes and wonders what his life would’ve been life if he had met Misha in his twenties, and how so many things would’ve been different. 

 

Heavy moves his head to look at the Doctor, “Also Heavy had great hair.” he laughs as he rubs his bald head. 

 

“Really?” Medic snickers. 

 

Heavy gestures to himself, “Was very handsome.” 

 

Medic pushes his hand away and laughs, “ _ Was? _ You’ve already gotten me drunk once to admit that I find you handsome, what more do you want?” 

 

“Ah, Doctor you flatter me.” He looks to him with an eyebrow quirked, “What is angle?” 

 

“My angle?” Medic says feigning ignorance, “I don’t have an  _ angle _ . I don’t need anything from you.” 

 

“Not need.” Heavy starts, “What does Doctor  _ want? _ ” 

 

Medic smiles widely into Heavy’s shoulder and breathes in his scent, Heavy’s shirt muffling him slightly, “Let’s do this again.” 

 

“Just talk?” Heavy asks as he brings his arm out from behind the Doctor to rub his neck softly. He flinches at the contact at first, but then realizing what the feeling was, he more than welcomes it.

 

Medic can feel his whole body blossom with warmth from the hand thumbing his neck, “Ja. If you want we can dance some other time, but promise me we'll talk more like this?” 

 

Heavy smiles, “This is fine.”

 

Eventually, Heavy leaves for the night wishing Medic a sweet dreams with a soft pat on his back. They both go to bed feeling just as wonderful as they had the night before, but this time it's a much calmer feeling. It isn’t nearly as nervous or tense, but that doesn’t make it any less powerful. 

 

And over the next few days they do talk, a lot. They end up talking in Medic’s office now most of the time, as he still has piles of paperwork to fill out. Heavy still doesn’t know why he has to do paperwork in the first place, but he decides to tell stories instead of asking about his work.

 

Most of the time they keep the topics on the lighter side, but Medic does promise Heavy one night he’ll tell him about his old partner when he’s feeling up to it. Heavy nods at this, he’s in no rush to talk about the past. 

 

Some days, they end up playing word games instead of telling stories at all. Medic finds it hilarious to make the words as unnecessarily morbid as possible, and Heavy’s loud laughter echos when Medic can’t guess the simplest of words. 

 

Other times, they do end up retiring to one of their rooms before bed. They talk more in there, and occasionally Medic bravely puts out his hand for Heavy to hold. And sometimes, this is just enough, and they don’t end up talking for awhile. But that’s alright, they both figure they have more time to talk later.  

 

During the week and a half before their flight to Russia, Heavy does learn how to lead a waltz.  He’s not amazing, but he’s better than most beginners.  Medic let’s Heavy spin him around his office to a tune he picked out himself. The tune is much more whimsical and sweet, filled with an overall feeling of happiness that's incredibly fitting.

 

As Heavy tries to keep up with the song he mentally makes note that he’d much rather have the Doctor to take the lead. He also sees how Medic looks while spinning carefree and again his smile wins Heavy over completely. He bargains with himself that they’ll just have to switch it up often, and get the most out of both dances.

 

The team starts to get ready for the wedding. More and more Heavy watches the mercenaries grab their large suitcases out of storage to start to pack. Spy’s “friend” comes to measure them all for their suits, and they arrive days later. They all silently wonder just what Spy threatened this man with to get him to work so fast.

 

Other than Soldier being disappointed that his pet raccoons aren’t invited, each member finds their own ways and reasons to look forward to the event. It shows in their overall demeanor, they all seem just to be happier, more excited, and less confrontational. Believe it or not, but everyone loves a vacation now and then, even the strict professionals like Sniper.

 

So they all get ready, and Miss Pauling visits them in the evening to remind them that they are leaving in two days. She really tries to hide how excited she is for the event, but everyone notices the spring in her step and the joy in her voice as she talks to the team. They don’t point it out, but they are all more than happy for her too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!!
> 
> I've been getting so many nice responses, I'm sorry if I sounds like I repeat myself too much, but really thank you all for your kind comments they really do mean a lot to me////


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> whoops this one is sappy

“Where are you going to go after all this is over?” 

 

The question comes from Medic as he sits at his desk doing paperwork while Heavy lays on the couch off to the side reading quietly. He lifts his gaze over to Medic and grins, “War is not over, and you are already missing me?” 

 

“Well I would hardly call this a war,” Medic starts, “More like an argument with too much money and time.” He adjusts his glasses, “But I am seriously asking.” 

 

Heavy sighs and puts down his book, “Home in Russia probably.” 

 

“What if you didn’t have to?” Medic asks quickly. 

 

Heavy lifts his brow, “What?” 

 

“Now this is all hypothetical of course,” Medic says as he organizes his papers in no particular order, “But If you didn’t  _ need  _ to go back to Russia, would you? I’d assume you’d only go back for your family, yes?” 

 

“Da.” Heavy agrees with him, “Why do you ask?”

 

“Well, I was just thinking,” Medic fumbles as he stacks more papers, “And mind you this is hypothetically years in the foreseeable future and if you didn’t need to return home-”

 

Heavy raises his eyebrows as he starts to understand what Medic is asking, “Go on.” 

 

He finally looks up at Heavy from his papers with the same expression someone who was lost would wear, “Would you come with me?” 

 

He hums and pauses for moment, “Where are you taking me Doctor?” 

 

Medic perks up at this, his excitement showing through when he smiles wide, “I guess it doesn’t matter where we would go. We could go  _ anywhere _ really, it’s just a matter of money and preferences.” He pauses before catching himself, “Hypothetically speaking of course.” 

 

“Would be nice.” Heavy responds simply. And honestly, it _ would _ be nice. Heavy imagines what traveling the world with Medic would be like, and it certainly would be interesting. The Doctor’s curiosity was something he figured would get them in trouble often, but then again he wasn’t sure if he cared. The thought of using his wealth from this job for something other than his family had never really occurred to Heavy before.

 

Even though he didn’t enjoy the actual act of traveling, the idea of seeing the world together with Medic was awfully tempting. Christmas would certainly be different, he imagines them bundled up in a bright and cheery European city. Not that either of them cared for the holiday especially, but the feeling that it brought was something Heavy always enjoyed. In the spring, they could visit large libraries that the Doctor and him could get lost in together for hours. Summertime is usually for the beaches, but neither of them really care for the sun or sand, so maybe they’ll just go tourist sightseeing? There are endless scenarios and possibilities for such a wonderful idea, and Heavy finds himself getting lost in them. 

 

“So you would come with me?” Medic asks smiling as he lifts himself from his desk and walks towards the man.

 

Heavy shifts to make room on the couch and watches Medic sink in next to him. He gives him a smile as he throws an arm around Medic’s shoulder,  “Seems like fun.”

 

Medic starts to lean his back against Heavy comfortably and twiddles his thumbs, “So in this hypothetical future where we travel around anywhere we want-” he pauses, “Do we end up settling down anywhere?” 

 

Now this idea is a different, more permanent one, and it sends a jolt of warmth through Heavy’s body. The privilege to be able to wake up every morning and the Doctor is just _ there. _ It would be similar to the base, except they wouldn’t have to sneak around anymore, they could just retire and be themselves. Odds are, the food would be much better as well. “Maybe after a time.” Heavy answers closing his eyes, “Somewhere alone.” 

 

Heavy then reaches out his other hand out so casually, just like he’s done so many other times over the past few days and Medic takes it in his own immediately.  

 

He squeezes their hands lightly and hums, “That would be wonderful.” 

 

Medic then shifts on the couch and Heavy opens his eyes at the movement and glances down at the doctor with the smallest grin that he knows drives him crazy. It’s been years since anyone could make Medic feel something as powerful as this, something so inviting and so strangely nostalgic. It makes him feel young, immature, and slightly embarrassed at the sincerity of it all. After all, Medic wasn’t any of these things, and he hadn’t been in a very long time.

 

So Medic finds himself leaning into Heavy again, leaning into the feeling of whatever this was between them. Built on trust and mutual respect, Medic realizes that this isn’t anything nearly as sappy as love —  not yet anyway, but maybe someday in the future it  _ could _ be. Right now he feels the excitement and electricity of new possibilities, and he finds himself falling for it. And yet again, for the first time in years, Medic lets himself have this, lets himself enjoy the feeling when he watches his partner slowly lean in with him and he can hear his own heartbeat in his ears. 

 

And he kisses him. It’s an overwhelming feeling that washes over him, this excitement, the unspoken words that come with such an act. And the first thing he notices is how careful they both are, and the second is how incredibly slow and _ sweet _ the kiss is, how it conflicts with everything these two men strive to be. 

 

It’s quick, but Medic finds himself laughing against his lips when they do break. He moves and feels Heavy’s stubble graze his cheek, and his breath and deep rumble from his own light laughter joins Medic’s in the small space between them.

 

They’re nervous, but both men are much too old and too set in their ways to admit to such a thing, so instead Medic buries his face into Heavy’s neck and really laughs. His laughter comes out so high pitched and joyful, and he can’t help it — he’s just so happy he can’t hold it in. They don’t speak right away, but rather just lay together smiling with just an overwhelming feeling of togetherness. Despite all the doubt they both used to have, this feels right; as if everything had been leading up to this. And he silently wonders how much more this could lead to, and if Heavy would want to go there with him someday. 

 

Heavy moves his arm to rub Medic’s back reassuringly, but it’s partly to ground himself as well. When Medic finally does sigh and lift out of the crook in Heavy’s neck, he barely has time to register that it’s happening again, that Heavy so softly leans back into the Doctor to capture one more quick kiss. He’s much more confident this time, so much more like his solid self, but he doesn’t kiss Medic just for the sensation, but rather he holds the Doctor to silently tell him that whatever he was feeling was entirely mutual. He was never very good with his words, so Heavy can only hope that his actions speak volumes.

 

When they break a second time, Medic lets the air out between his teeth, “I can’t believe you.” He smiles back at him. 

 

“Me?!” Heavy laughs, “Doctor started this.” 

 

Medic intertwines their hands again and gives his partner a wicked grin, “I guess I did, didn’t I?” 

 

“Da.” He agrees smiling wide, “Your fault.” 

 

Medic lays down on Heavy completely now, releasing the tension from his body, “As if you can blame me?” he stretches out, “Just look at yourself.” 

 

“Medic is too kind.” Heavy reaches to hold him, “Very kind and strong.” He emphasizes. 

 

“Always the charmer.” Medic smiles. He could stay like this for hours just blissfully wrapped up in the warmth in his partner. But he can’t, they have a flight in the morning to a wedding the both of them have been looking forward to.  Medic watches Heavy look at the time and realize this, and his body shifting to get up; he always was the responsible one of the two.

 

Before he can speak, Medic sits up and interrupts him, “I know it’s late, but would you consider coming back to my room with me for the night?”

 

Heavy doesn’t respond, he’s not so sure his brain is working correctly. All he does is look back at the Doctor too confused and honestly stunned to answer.

 

Medic realizes what he sounds like, but keeps his body steady as a feeling of hot embarrassment washes over him, “No!”, He corrects quickly with his hands, “No, uh, nothing like  _ that. _ I mean we just do what we normally do, but you just stay for the night.” 

 

God he really does sound young. 

 

Heavy lets out a shaky breath he didn’t know he was holding and nods, “Alright.” 

 

When they separate, everything feels so much cooler without the heat between them. Heavy collects his thoughts when he stands, “What about flight in the morning?” 

 

“I can wake you up early if you’d like.” Medic says while stretching his muscles, “That way you can get to your room without anyone seeing you.” 

 

Heavy nods, humming a noise of agreement, as if he could ever say no to his doctor. It’s then when Heavy waits for Medic patiently that he realizes just how far he would follow this man. Even if things weren’t like this — even if they were only friends, Heavy thinks he would’ve been perfectly fine traveling with such a treasured companion. Although, he can’t help but think because they  _ are _ more than just friends, this wonderful human being could probably talk him into just about anything as long as they would go together. What a dangerous thought, but they both were more than well practiced in the art of protecting each other’s back. 

 

They leave the office individually with a ten minute gap between them at Medic’s request. Heavy completely understands, and in the ten minutes he spends in the office alone before heading over, he continues to think about this hypothetical place they both settle down in. How nice it would be to not have to sneak around, to live in a house that is theirs and only theirs. 

 

After he leaves the office, Heavy stops by his own room for his sleepwear and heads to Medic’s room and quietly as he can. It’s late, and no one is walking around the base, but Heavy is careful anyway when he softly knocks on Medic’s door.

 

They soon find themselves awkwardly trying to take up the least amount of space as possible on the small bed they try to share together. Medic isn’t a small man himself, and adding someone that's known for being giant causes the two of them to practically sleep on top of each other to keep from falling off. Neither of them seem to particularly care about this, with Medic especially excited and trying to keep conversation before Heavy has to eventually shush him. They have a plane to catch tomorrow and they need their rest. 

 

Heavy falls asleep first. Medic can tell when his slow breathing turns to light snoring and he keeps himself from laughing in his face. He closes eyes and breathes deeply,  _ What could be better than this?, _ he finds himself thinking.  As Medic drifts off to sleep, he tries to commit this all to memory, he never wants to forget it. He wants to remember his smell, and his incredible presence, and his humor, and the grin that drives him mad. He never wants to forget Heavy. 

 

In the morning, Medic groggily wakes up to his alarm and attempts to turn it off, only to find his arm pinned by one of Heavy’s own large forearms. He wakes Heavy when he untangles his arm and turns off the alarm, shifting to sit up against the headboard. Medic rubs Heavy’s shoulders lightly and looks out his window, thankfully it’s still dark out and he’ll be able to go back to his room without any trouble. 

 

Heavy groans and wraps his arms around Medic’s waist, “Five more minutes.” he sleepily muffles into Medic’s side. 

 

Medic laughs lightly at him, “You’re acting like a child. Come on, get up.” 

 

He only gives another sleepy groan as a response when Medic unwraps himself from Heavy’s grip and stands up, rubbing his face. “Believe me, I wish you could stay too.” Medic starts, “But we both know things will get rather complicated if people see you here.” 

 

At that Heavy sits up and rubs the sleep from his eyes. The Doctor’s hair looks disheveled from sleep and when he turns with his glasses finally back on his face, Heavy feels his heart throb. Before he leaves, Heavy makes sure to give Medic one last kiss on his rough jawline, to which Medic hums at the affection —  he could get used to this.

 

The next few hours were filled with getting ready for the day, furious last minute packing, and Scout running around convinced the other merc’s stole various items he needed for the trip only to find them five minutes later.  When they have their bags, they all load up as to what can only be described as some sort of large pickup truck. Most of them end up sitting squished in the back truck bed while Miss Pauling opens a window while driving to brief them on the trip.

 

She yells out to them that the whole thing will be taking place in the small city where Heavy and his family used to go if they needed supplies that they couldn’t make themselves. Basically there are people that still want his family dead, and this is just about the closest they could get to a big ceremony without putting themselves in serious danger. They’ll all be staying for the night they fly in, the day of the wedding and reception, and the next day they’ll be flown back home. It’s short, but it’s all the Administrator would approve for them. 

 

The truck slowly pulls to a stop on the abandoned runway by the base. When they all step out from the vehicle with their bags, they see their plane that looks… _flyable_. It looks more like a plane made for heavy cargo more so than passengers, but it wasn’t as if this was the first time they had all been thrown into a cargo plane if they were being honest. 

 

The team loads up into the plane finding it to have two rows of seats at least, and the majority of them of having seat belts, so they couldn’t complain too much for the time being. Heavy insists on sitting as close to the emergency exit door as possible, to which the Doctor complies with a skeptical look. 

 

When everyone is settled, the plane shakily starts up for take off.  When Medic looks to his partner on his left, he can see his jaw is tensing and his hands balled into fists, and he can tell some of the other members of the team have noticed this as well. As it turns out, Heavy is terrified of flying; he admits it quietly to the Doctor hours into their flight.

 

By now Heavy is less tense, and much more wary, “Is small plane.” he explains, “Not so sure it was meant to fly this many people.” 

 

The rest of the team seems to either be sleeping, or in Sniper’s case, watching the clouds go by out the window. Medic wasn’t sure if that man ever slept. 

 

He turns back to Heavy with small grin keeping his volume low, “Don’t tell me your  _ scared? _

__

 

__

“Scared?!” Heavy whispers harshly, “I protect Doctor all day, and you are calling me baby?!” 

__

 

__

“I not sure I said all that.” Medic laughs lightly at him.

__

 

__

“After all I do?!” He counters, “And you laugh?” 

__

 

__

Medic backs off waving a hand at him, “I was just joking with you bitte! I didn’t know you would take it so serious.” 

__

 

__

Heavy scoffs back at Medic, but he doesn’t look nearly as angry as before. He knows Medic is just trying to tease him, but he isn’t exactly in a teasing mood. Especially now with the plane shaking with the occasional turbulence. So Heavy shuts up, just like any other time when he doesn’t quite know what to do. 

__

 

__

Medic finds the silence uncomfortable and nudges his shoulder lightly with a smile, “Hey. You’ll live.” 

__

 

__

The large man turns back to Medic and eventually gives him a light smile back. Right now, Heavy would like to be just about anywhere else in the world, but he figures that it could be worse. At least Medic is there to endure it all too.

__

 

__

The rest of the flight is filled with light turbulence and the occasional rant from a teammate about the condition of the plane.  Hours later when they do finally land roughly on the near abandoned runway, the team exits to find the small airport lined with snow. November is a much warmer month in the badlands.

__

 

__

Complaints about the weather are rampant, but the team loads up into another, slightly worse truck and heads for town. The incredible amount of snow surprises most of the mercenaries, and the lack of immediate communist propaganda surprises Soldier, but he’s still remaining vigilant. 

__

 

__

Miss Pauling doesn’t talk much, and she doesn’t even address the team formally until they arrive at the small cabin inn at the edge of town. They all try to warm up around the small fireplace at the entrance while Miss Pauling gets their rooms sorted out.

__

 

__

She walks up to the group with four keys, “Ok, so we had the funds to get four rooms in total. That means three men per room, plus a room for myself.”

__

 

__

Scout speaks up, flashing a smile, “Hey why are ya’ taking a room all for yourself? Don’t ya’ wanna bunk with me?”

__

 

__

Miss Pauling ignores him entirely, “Normally I would have just booked you all together by class type, but I’m sure we all know that Spy and Sniper can’t be in a room together for more than five minutes without trying to kill each other.”

__

 

__

“Fair enough.” Sniper nods.

__

 

__

“And the last time I left Scout and Soldier together they broke both their legs, so this is how the rooming situation will go.” Miss Pauling then pulls out her clipboard and holds the keys out to the group, “In our first room we’ll have Pyro, Scout, and Sniper. Scout I’m counting on you to make sure there isn’t an arson.”

__

 

__

“Anything you say babe.” Scout finger guns back to her. 

__

 

__

Sniper walks up to her and grabs the key to head to the room, but not before whispering that he’ll make sure nothing happens. Miss Pauling whispers a silent ‘thank you’ back to him before they all head off with their luggage. 

__

 

__

“Alright then, room two will have Heavy, Medic and Demo. And that leaves room three with Engie, Spy, and Soldier.” She looks up, “Any questions?”

__

 

__

Spy speaks up immediately, looking less than pleased, “I have several.” 

__

 

__

“I figured you would!” Miss Pauling perks up, “But ever since that huge drunken explosion that blew out half the kitchen two months ago, I can’t put Demo and Soldier in the same room.”

__

 

__

Spy walks up to Miss Pauling keeping his voice at a low whisper, “Miss Pauling please, I don’t want to be stuck with a country bumpkin and his lunatic friend for the weekend.” 

__

 

__

“I suggest you get to know your teammates Spy.” She answers back just as softly, “You might actually make some friends if you’re pleasant.” 

__

 

__

Miss Pauling gives Spy a hopeful look thats met with pure annoyance, “Alright I’ll make you a deal.” She squints, “If you make sure nothing goes wrong tonight, I’ll switch rooms with you, and you can have my room all to yourself tomorrow night.” 

__

 

__

“I like your style.” Spy smirks and grabs the third key from her hand, “Deal.” 

__

 

__

“That settles that then.” She huffs and looks to the last three, “And I’m not too worried about you guys. Just as long as Medic keeps all of your organs in your body.”

__

 

__

Medic laughs, “No promises.” 

__

 

__

Miss Pauling then gives Medic a look of total exhaustion, “Please?” 

__

 

__

“It’s not like I’d have a place to store them anyway.” Medic responds bitterly, “Of course it is cold enough that I could try to makeshift some sort of cooler to — ”

__

 

__

“Medic,  _ please? _ ” She repeats.

__

 

__

He rolls his eyes and sighs, “Ach, fine. Just hand me the key.” 

__

 

__

Miss Pauling smiles, “Thank you. I really do appreciate it.” 

__

 

__

Heavy makes sure to thank Miss Pauling before the three men head off to their room.  A part of him wishes he would’ve spoken up and switched with Spy.  It’s not as if it’s going to be hard to pretend to be so involved with the Doctor, but it definitely would’ve been easier. Although they are already known to be close friends, so maybe the team would’ve found it strange if they  _ didn’t  _ room together.

__

 

__

He looks over his shoulder to Demo, who looks too tired to care about anything at this point.  Heavy thought he probably looked worse for wear as well, but Demo has seen better days coming off of the battlefield. Apparently the plane ride was awful for the both of them. 

__

 

__

Heavy insists that Demo showers first, to which he graciously accepts. Their room is fairly small, with only three twin beds, a side table, and their bath, but honestly it’s not like Heavy expected much when he first saw the small inn. 

__

 

__

They are all exhausted, and other than some small talk, the night in their room is largely uneventful. Demo sleepily promises Medic that if he takes his liver in his sleep again that he’ll personally shove a bomb ‘up his arse’, to which Medic laughs and promises him with his fingers crossed behind his back. Heavy confronts him before bed and makes him actually promise to not take Demo’s liver for the time being, and of course he couldn’t say no to Misha. 

__

 

__

So they fall asleep for the evening in their separate beds. Heavy blames the coldness of his bed to the window on his other side, but he knows that’s only partly true. He also has a hard time falling asleep, he can’t stop thinking about seeing his family tomorrow. They didn’t get the chance to stop by today, so keeps himself excited for tomorrow, it’ll be the first time he’s seen them in a few years. 

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay guys! there was a lot of revision near the end of this chap!! But i hope you enjoy!!
> 
> also holy cow the wedding is next!!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wedding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy moly! that took awhile to get out!!! sorry guys!! Hope you enjoyed!!

The groom never arrives.

 

The small church Heavy’s family and friends had gathered in stays awkwardly silent as they pray for the spineless man to show his face. The left half of the church is empty, no one seems to have shown up for him either. It’s like some sort of sick joke that he deliberately left Bronislava and the rest of them out of. She doesn’t even get to walk down the aisle, she just sits in the hallway letting her anger boil into a finely contained rage. Bronislava has been through much worse, god knows she is more than strong enough to get through this, but that doesn’t mean her anger and sadness doesn’t well up in her throat painfully. And to top it all off, her brother wasn’t even there to walk her down the aisle anyway.

 

No, the team shows up forty-five minutes late. After clearing the snow off of their truck, it refuses to start. Engineer tinkers with the vehicle for longer than he probably should have, but in the end it still doesn’t work.  He doesn’t have the tools to fix it and in the snow he can’t see clearly. Thankfully, the small church and rec center is only a mile and a half down the road. However, that being said, it’s a mile and a half in snow that’s a easily a foot and a half deep in some areas.

 

The large wooden double doors on the church creak loudly when they finally arrive. Everyone perks up in their seats, glancing towards the hallway opening, silently praying that the groom will walk in and this has all been the cause of some strange accident. Instead they watch a large group of men they’ve never seen before shuffle in awkwardly, take off their extra jackets, and take their seats in the back as to not disturb anyone. Medic looks back at the hallway behind him, Heavy decided to stay behind and talk to the who he assumes is the bride sitting against the wall at the other end of the hall.

 

The team soon realizes that something is very wrong. No one asks about it at first, they all just settle in their seats, adjusting their suits now wet from the snow, and warming their hands waiting for something to happen. Some of the smarter mercenaries noticed the lack of guests on the other side of the aisle, while others remained completely oblivious. 

 

Scout is the first one to speak up, feeling uncomfortable with the stares from the other guests and eerie silence, “So are we gonna’ get this show on the road or what?” 

 

His echoed voice is met with more silence and stares. Miss Pauling elbows him roughly and leans to whisper in his ear, “Don’t be rude, most of them probably don’t speak English.” 

 

“Oh right.” Scout adds awkwardly and then turns around in his seat to address Spy, who’s still fretting over his suit, “Hey Spy, aren’t you like some kinda’ fancy pants with different languages and stuff?”

 

Spy ignores Scout’s name calling, still fidgeting with his tie, “I suppose if we are talking about any of the romance languages. Truthfully, I’m rusty on my Russian.”

 

Sniper takes off his hat and adjusts his hair beside him, “You mean to tell me you knew we were coming to Russia and you didn’t even think practice it?” 

 

“Oh yes, I forgot that your Russian is much better.” Spy sneers.

 

Sniper sits up ready to fight with Spy in their usual manner, but before he can get a word out, Bronislava walks out with her head held high and Heavy under her arm. They walk down about half of the aisle, and the team recognizes Bronislava’s expression to be the same one they’ve seen Heavy wear in especially hard battles. She turns to address her family, her white homemade dress making her seem even more beautiful in her powerful stance.  

 

Her words come out sharp in her mothertongue and It’s immediately obvious that she’s rehearsed this. Bronislava and Heavy stand tall together, and he holds her arm tighter when he hears a crack in her voice. It pains him, and he hopes he’ll get to meet the man that did this someday. This man that hurt his sister- his family, will pay for what he did in more than just an angry conversation.

 

Of course the team understands very little of the actual words being said, but her tone is incredibly clear. After she’s done, they all give her a moment to breathe before her mother stands and gives her the comforting hug she really needs. The team turns to Spy for a rough translation, but eventually Heavy walks over to translate it for him.

 

Basically, they decide to hold the reception anyway.

 

So many people pulled together to help make this happen, to help Bronislava on her special day. And whether or not that day included the groom didn’t matter. If nothing at all, her brother was home for the first time in years, and everything looked lovely. She decides it would be a waste to just cancel the ceremony, and Bronislava smiles when she walks with the other attendees to the rec center to enjoy herself for the rest of the day.

 

Heavy turns to beeline for his mother after explaining the situation to the team, to find her small figure behind him, patiently waiting for him to finish. Her smile is so genuine and kind, and Heavy pulls her into a huge hug; he’s missed her so much. When they part, they speak rapid fire Russian to each other to catch up. Most of the team decides to head for the rec center, silently hoping for some kind of wet bar. Medic stays behind at an appropriate distance to allow for Heavy and his mother to talk without intruding. 

 

While he stands there, Medic can’t help but have the realization for the second time that day that Heavy looks stunning when his clothes are actually tailored to his measurements. The first time he realized this was earlier that morning while helping him with his tie. They exchanged knowing smiles while Demo was in the bathroom. Heavy had held the Doctor for the briefest of moments, breathing in his cologne deeply, letting it swirl and fill his senses happily.

 

Suddenly, Heavy is waving to him from where he stands with his mother, signaling him to join them. Heavy is smiling, so Medic puts on a charming smile as well as he meets them, shaking Heavy’s mother’s hand lightly. 

 

Medic feels a large arm go around his waist that pulls him closer to Heavy as he excitedly speaks to his mother in Russian. Medic scans the room nervously, they are the only ones left in the room, but that doesn’t stop him from trying to look as casual as possible out of habit. Heavy speaks to his mother softly, and Medic watches her expressions go from deep thought to eventually the same warm smile that she wore before as she locks eyes with him. 

 

When Heavy stops, she speaks to Medic, her accent thick, “Where is hat?” 

 

“My hat?” Medic takes a moment, “Oh, my hat! The one you made? I wore it on the way in, its over there.” He points to his seat to show her.

 

“She wants to see how it looks.” Heavy explains as he rubs Medic’s back.

 

Medic raises his eyebrows curiously at Heavy before he quickly grabs the hat, putting it on as he returns, “It feels a tad ridiculous wearing this with just the suit.” He nervously laughs. 

 

“Is fine.” Heavy reassures him with a hand on his shoulder when he returns. The contact puts Medic on edge, he’s still not quite sure what Heavy’s mother knows yet.

 

She turns to him and reaches for his hat to adjust it, “There.” She says simply when Medic leans down to help the small woman reach. When she stands back to admire her work, Heavy’s mother places her hands on her face, smiling even wider. “So handsome!” 

 

Heavy laughs at this, holding Medic tighter, shaking his body lightly, “Yes, very handsome!” 

 

Medic just stares at the two of them with an awkward smile on his face, he isn’t quite sure whats happening. When Heavy stops laughing, he asks his mother for a moment with the Doctor. She agrees, and leaves with a quick kiss on both of their cheeks and a small wave. 

 

“So what was all that about?” Medic asks while removing his hat, obviously still on edge, but remaining optimistic. 

 

Heavy chuckles at him, “Told Mama about you.” 

 

Medic swallows, “And she’s fine with it?” 

 

“More than fine.” His expression lights up, “She is very happy.”

 

Air releases itself from Medic’s lungs in a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. Being a man of control, he would’ve much rather know about this sort of stuff beforehand, but he bargains that if the outcome would’ve been bad Heavy would’ve told him. It’s almost scary to him how much he trusts this man now. 

 

When Medic looks back at Heavy, the sight was delightfully overwhelming. Heavy’s solid figure stands beside him, the dim glow of the church's light framing his face and softening his hard features. What a strange sensation, an unholy man finding solace in such a holy place, experiencing thoughts and sensations he had guilty wished for over the years. In front of him was not only a person, but an essence of silently promised affection and trust, the same one that was now grasping his hands again, warming them with just his very presence. 

 

Heavy leans down so that the sides of their faces can touch, breathing in deeply. He feels a pang of selfishness, today isn’t about him- it’s about Bronislava, but telling his mother, showing her the man he was falling in love with was more than important to him. Maybe after the war is all over, they’ll come back. They could never have a real ceremony, but something like this, something small and sincere; Medic even already had the doves covered. It was a thought that made Heavy’s mind almost dizzy with joy. He lets a laugh slip out from his lips, and he presses them to Medic’s neck to stop anymore sounds from escaping. They stay like this for a moment, just gently swaying, and it’s almost like they’re back at the base all over again.

 

But as much as Heavy would love to stay wrapped up together with Medic, he has more family and friends to catch up with. People he probably won’t see again for the next few years. When Heavy pulls away, he squeezes their hands and leaves a light kiss to Medic’s cheekbone. He doesn’t know when quite yet, but he whispers to Medic that one day they’ll go somewhere where they can really be together. Medic laughs lightly at the promise, that’s more than he could ever ask for. 

 

They walk together to the recreational center not hand in hand, but side by side just like the hundreds of times they have before. When they reach the highly decorated center, the music is loud and entire place is covered wall to wall in white and gold. Heavy gives a pat on Medic’s back before he heads to the group of people off to his left. Medic watches him leave with a small smile, and then heads to his right to the small wet bar, he might as well relax with a drink.

 

Medic sits himself next to Demo and Soldier not out of comradery, but rather because the rest of the seats are taken by people he doesn’t know.  Sniper sits at the other end of the bar, being talked up by who Medic recognizes as Heavy’s other sister, Yana. Medic can tell he’s being polite to the girl, but by the way he stares at his glass is clearly not interested. Before Medic can decide whether or not to save the poor man, Spy struts over, never wasting a chance to brag about himself. Again, it’s obvious to him that Spy isn’t _ actually _ interested in the girl, but rather pissing off Sniper seems to be his goal as usual.

 

Medic turns back in his seat and orders his drink, something light just to calm his nerves. Demo grabs the doctor’s attention with a wave of his hand, “Ay Doc, you kept my liver in my body right? I don’t want to be dying here for good.” he squints at him skeptically. 

 

Medic takes a sip of his drink and waves him off, “Don’t worry, your organs are safe.” 

 

That’s all the confirmation Demo needs as he takes a shot with Soldier, both of them groaning at the burning sensation and then laughing as they bang the bar for another round. 

 

“Hey Sweetheart, you want in on this?” Soldier yells over Demo’s shoulder at Medic, lifting his shot in the process. 

 

Medic is unamused with Soldier’s nickname he’s given him, he doesn't enjoy when he uses it in battle and he doesn’t find it funny now. “I’d rather not make a fool of myself, thank you.”

 

“Ah, lay off.” Demo rolls his single eye, “Can’t ya’ see we’re just having fun here?” He then gives a knowing smile to Medic and nudges the Doctor lightly, “Or are ya’ not allowed to have fun without the big guy?”

 

“I have  _ plenty _ of fun without him. And I don’t understand what you might be implying.” Medic defends, taking another sip of his drink, understanding  _ exactly _ what Demoman might be implying. 

 

“Oh come on, Doc,” Demo motions his hand, “We’re part a group a men that kill each other for money over a bunch of rocks, I don’t think anyone is gonna’ get their panties in a bunch if you and the big guy are shaggin’.”

 

It takes an incredible amount of self control to keep Medic’s drink in his mouth. He sputters, but doesn’t say a word and gives Demo an expression that promises he’ll be losing more organs later.

 

“So I’m right then?!” Demo smiles, “It was just a hunch of mine, but your face doesn’t lie Doc.” he wiggles a finger and laughs in his face, his breath reeking of alcohol.  

 

Medic sucks in an audibly deep breath ready to retort when Demo throws up his hand to stop him, “Look, I meant what I said, I don’t think anyone is gonna’ care.” He takes a sip of his drink and smirks, “And if means anything, you don’t have to worry about me. Heavy isn’t exactly my type.” 

 

Demo ends his sentence with a wink and a tap of on the table for more of his drink. When Medic doesn’t answer back, he starts to ramble, “Although that's assuming I actually have a type! It’s more of a ‘Who’s still waiting for my drunk arse to wake up in the morning’ type of thing. I’m not very picky on the details if you catch my drift.” he coughs.

 

A light hum of understanding comes from Medic’s throat, but he makes it more as an excuse to try to escape this conversation entirely. Demo is drunk, and at this rate he’s going to get them both fired- Soldier is sitting right on the other side of him. Before he can make his escape, Demo throws an arm over Medic’s shoulder, trapping him physically.

 

“Aw Doc, don’t make me have this conversation all by myself.” He says casually, “I really could ramble on all night. I promise I don’t bite.”

 

Medic looks exasperated, “Well what exactly do you want me to say?!” 

 

“Oh, I don’t know.” He sighs throwing up his hand holding his drink, spilling some, “Start at the beginning I guess. Tell me why ya’ like him.”

 

Soldier then comes out of the drunken daze he’s been in and whips his head around to the two of them with a goofy grin, “What’s going on?”

 

“Doc here is smitten with the big guy.” Demo says simply, then points at Soldier, “And that means you owe me twenty dollars.” 

 

Soldier then looks over to Medic, who looks more than uncomfortable, and then grumbles when he reaches in his pocket and slams the money on the table. “You’re bleeding me damn dry Tavish.”

 

“Then you better get better at bettin’!” Demo laughs at his own joke heartily. 

 

Soldier cracks a smile and laughs beside him, but it’s clear he’s got something else on his mind- he’s got his thinking face on. He leans over the bar again so he can get a better look at Medic, “Hey Doc, uh,” he starts while rubbing his neck, “Sorry about calling ya’ sweetheart and all that. I just wanted to get your attention on the field.” 

 

Medic is thoroughly surprised by the apology, “That’s... quite alright.” 

 

Without missing a beat, Soldier finishes his thought, “I didn’t mean to be some kind of cocktease is all.” 

 

Again Medic is tested with how well he can keep his liquids in his mouth, and he ends up violently swallowing it all, burning his lungs and causing him to go into a horrible coughing fit in the process. Demo however is having a wonderful time, his booming laugh echoing in Medic’s ears, causing the beginnings of a migraine. 

 

“Oh Janey I’m sure you’re fine!” Demo laughs at him before leaning over to whisper in Medic’s ear, “Give the boy some credit, he’s only known from war and corn fields his whole life. He means well!” 

 

Medic nods, truthfully he’s still in a daze over this whole conversation, but he can’t tell whether it’s induced by his drink or the subject matter. The idea of his teammates being indifferent about his homosexuality certainly was something he hadn’t considered. 

 

“I accept the apology Soldier.” Medic replies with a hand waving to him.

 

And just like that, Soldier is back to his happy self, “Good to hear it comrade!” He gives a thumbs up, and then goes back to trying to wave down the bartender, who’s currently cheering on Sniper and Spy at the other end of the table chugging down shots in some sort of suicidal drinking contest. 

 

The sight reminds Medic of the Friday nights they had back at base, the times when he really felt the closest to his teammates. Sure, sometimes they were stupid or temperamental, but at the end of the day they were all stuck in the same concrete building together in the middle of nowhere. A group of men with the only common trait between each other is the willingness to murder for money, and yet they lived together, worked together, laughed together as if it was something normal for a group of people to do. All things considered, Medic’s life was only a hair away from being much worse, and admittedly there were days when these men made his throwaway life worth living.

 

“Alright Tavish, you want to talk?” Medic perks up, “I’ll talk.” 

 

Demo turns his attention away from the drinking contest, “Oh yeah? And what’s gotten into you that’s made you wanna talk all of a sudden?” 

 

“Probably alcohol.” Medic laughs, and the joke gets a deep chuckle out of Demo too as he shakes his head.

 

“Fair enough!” He smiles.

 

As it turns out, Demo is an excellent conversationalist. When Medic finally agrees to talk, Demo - and occasionally Soldier, but he leaves for food eventually - listens to every word before starting up with his own comments. Medic would consider Heavy his closest friend, but he hadn’t really gotten close to most of the team. He’s forgotten how nice it was to have a group of people to talk to without a filter. So they end up talking for awhile, and both Demo and Medic are able to talk about their preferences and own experiences in peace.

 

Medic lets out one of his signature high pitched laughs as he doubles over on the counter, “You didn’t! What do you even do in that situation?!” 

“I’ll tell ya’ what I did!” Demo says between chuckles, “I grabbed my pants, waved to the fella one last time before I high tailed it out of there! His wife was so angry I just about changed my name so that  _ witch _ couldn’t find me!” 

 

Medic runs his hand through his hair as he laughs hard again, and it could be the alcohol getting to him, but he doesn’t think he’s laughed this hard away of a surgery table in years. He takes off his glasses so he can rub the tears from his eyes as they both slow down to low giggles. When he places his glasses on his face and blinks his vision back to normal, he feels Demo shake his shoulder lightly. 

 

“Oh here comes ya’ man.” He teases, but it’s said with a large grin and good intentions. Medic smiles at the term as he watches Heavy walk over towards them in large strides. 

 

When he reaches them, Heavy grins, “I hope Doctor is not too drunk.” 

 

“Me too.” Medic laughs, “I can’t break my glasses again, these are my last pair.” 

 

Heavy laughs and pats his shoulder, but it’s a fleeting touch, something kept hidden from Demo in front of them. “Can we talk alone?” He asks tentatively, glancing to the empty hallway.

 

“Of course.” Medic responds as he waves to Demo, “Excuse me a moment.”

 

Demo winks at him, “No worries. Ya’ secrets safe with me Doc.” 

 

Heavy gives Demo a skeptical glance as he leaves with Medic, but it's only met with a sly grin and another swing of his drink. He turns to Medic beside him as they make their way to the hallway, “What was that?” 

 

“Demo and I were just talking for a while.” He explains, “It was actually very nice.” 

 

“You like Demo now?” Heavy asks, eyebrow raised. 

 

Medic motions for Heavy to go through the doorway first, “He’s a better man than I admittedly gave him credit for. At the very least, I think I understand his train of thought more.” 

 

Heavy huffs with a smile, “That is good! I’m glad.” 

 

Once they reach the hallway and close the door, Medic turns to him, “So what is it you need my friend?” 

 

“Well,” he starts as he fidgets with his collar, “asked Bronislava, and we can stay after the party is over.” 

 

“And why do we want to do that?” 

 

Heavy reaches over to hold the doctor closer to him, keeping his voice low, “Thought maybe we could dance.” 

 

Looking at Heavy’s face, so full of hope, he can’t help himself but kiss the man. It’s short out of fear of someone walking in, but it makes him smile anyway, “You know how to dance?” he feigns surprise, “I wonder what intelligent mastermind taught you how to do that.”

 

Heavy laughs, “The best man I know.” 

 

“Ah, you flatter me.” He adjusts his glasses, “By the way don’t I have more of your family to meet? Another sister I believe?” 

 

Heavy sighs, his face dropping, “Zhanna is home, she is very sick. But she will be ok, just could not make the trip. She has doctor with her.” 

 

“Oh.” Medic responds, “I would’ve brought my equipment if I’d known.”

 

“Is fine.” Heavy says, “I know you would. But we are not telling Mama about your work. She is old lady and will have heart attack.” 

 

“Are you telling me she doesn’t want to know about the disembodied head in my fridge?” Medic laughs.

 

Heavy laughs along with him, pushing him away. “Oh please, no. She will die.” 

 

“Fine, fine!” he pushes back, “We’ll just tell her about the field medical work and leave the rest out of it, Ja?” 

 

Heavy snorts, “Da.” 

 

So they wait for the end of the reception. Their time is mostly filled with catching up again with family or checking in on teammates. Miss Pauling, who’ve they haven’t been keeping tabs on, is merrily dancing alongside Pyro, who’s definition of dancing is a lot more like giddy skipping in random directions. Looking towards the wet bar, it seems Sniper and Spy have drunk themselves dry and are just sadly mumbling to one another as they usually do, which then leads to a disinterested Yana now having her ear talked off by Scout. Engie seems to be keeping off to the sides, staying away from the small crowds, but staying close enough to laugh at the shit show that is Demo and Soldier dancing wildly in the center.  

 

Overall it’s a good time, and it lasts into the evening. Before everyone leaves, Heavy makes sure to dance with both his sisters and his mother of course, both to impress them and for the fun of it. Heavy can tell Bronislava is still sad, he can see it in her eyes, but to know that she had a fun time anyway was comforting. Later when Medic is able to actually talk with Heavy’s sisters, they come to the conclusion that they like him, but they warn him on the off chance he decides to run out on their brother, he’d better run very far. The two women are every bit as intimidating as Heavy when provoked, and Medic assures them there’s nothing to worry about.

 

Eventually family friends leave, and with many hugs and some tears, Heavy’s family takes their leave as well. They have to ride back before dark or else the trip gets pretty dangerous in the unlit woodlands by their house. The team is left behind and neatly clears the rest of the decorations and trash for pick-up tomorrow with only a minimal amount of complaining. It’s after the clean up when Demo and Miss Pauling usher the team to the front of the church that Heavy and Medic are truly alone. Demo closes the door behind him with smile and mouths to them silently that they have time for one dance. 

 

The thud of the door is Medic’s cue to run over to the record player to play whatever song they already have in, they don’t really have time to be picky. Medic places the needle on the record, and by some stroke of strange fate, it’s  _ their _ song, the song they danced to in Medic’s office the first time over a week ago. It’s a piano arrangement of the piece, and when the very first notes hit Medic’s ears he just turns to Heavy and laughs lightly in disbelief. 

 

Heavy smiles, “Did you-?”

 

“I didn’t!” Medic laughs harder, “It was already in there!” 

 

Heavy rubs his hand over his head for a moment before throwing his hands up, “It was meant to be!” 

 

He speed walks over to Medic as to not waste anymore time they have and grabs his hand, he smiles, “I am leading, da?” 

 

“Sure, I’ll just lead next time.” Medic explains as he rests his hand on Heavy’s shoulder, brushing by his neck affectionately. 

 

Heavy takes his first step into the dance, “Deal.” 

 

And with that they’re off gliding across the shined floor to a piece of music that symbolized everything they’ve accomplished in such a short amount of time. With the knowledge of how to actually dance, Heavy is allowed to get passionate in his steps. To an outsider they seem like a smooth black blur in their suits, but up close it’s obvious that the focus was on each other. Heavy finds himself closing his eyes to the feeling of the music, but he forces them open again, he doesn’t want to miss a moment of the doctor’s face of adoration.

 

Heavy cracks a large smile, he never wants to forget this sight, never wants to forget the feeling of being so in love with one person. This was different from anything he’d ever felt before, and he’s immediately addicted. It’s the warmth of a campfire surrounding him, warming him in the best of ways. When Medic laughs at Heavy’s smile, it’s as if some throws more wood on the fire, and his whole being crackles with life. They spin their last spin, coming to a slow stop along with the music and Heavy doesn’t miss a beat to hold the Doctor’s face as he kisses him. 

 

This feeling in Heavy’s gut flares to life again and he deepens the kiss, rubbing the sides of Medic’s face with his thumbs. Medic feels slightly embarrassed when he subconsciously lets out a short moan, but with Heavy engulfing him like this he can’t find it in himself to care for long. He just plants his hands on either side of Heavy’s suit lapels and pulls him closer. 

 

It’s too intense when they initially break away. The dancing had them out of breath before, now it looks like they just ran a marathon. They take a moment to catch their breath, along with some small kisses to help with the overflowing intensity neither of them seem to know how to deal with. 

 

It’s Heavy that eventually speaks up in his breathlessness, “We do have to go.” 

 

Medic nods in reluctant agreement, if they stay any longer the team will come back and find them there. Which according to Demo wouldn’t be a an awful thing, but it’s been a long day and they’d much rather tell the rest of the team on their own time. 

 

“Yeah.” Medic finally says. He swallows thickly and smiles, “Another time then?”

 

Heavy laughs at the man in front of him, the fire in his body dying down but not extinguished. He reaches up to lovingly adjust Medic’s glasses back and brushes back his hair into its signature swirl, “Of course. Anything for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and just when you thought i was done theres one more small chapter lol
> 
> Thank you for all your kind words and support!!!!


	7. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue

 

Its years later.

 

After the war and some years of traveling, they end up settling in upstate New York. It’s a quiet little place with plenty of land and privacy. In the fall when the leaves turn, it reminds Medic of his childhood in Germany, and in the Winter Heavy still enjoys hunting from time to time. He calls his family often, as some of them aren’t nearly as far away anymore. 

 

Yana lives close by in New York City, and visits during the holidays with her own small family. Medic finds that although he doesn’t enjoy children for long periods of time, in short bursts he finds them fascinating. Their sense of curiosity matches his own, and the strange imaginative nature of children Medic finds hilarious. Heavy adores his niece and nephew, secretly wishing he had children of his own during his youth. In a way, he sees them almost as his own children, and in the both of them he can see the small remnants of his own mother and father within them. 

 

Zhanna ran off with Soldier to god knows where after the war. Every few months they’d get a postcard from another country updating them on their situation. Eventually, they do settle down in the midwest again and start some kind of strange farm, taking in just about any kind of animal they see. Their single son is strikingly handsome, having Soldier’s hard features softened by Zhanna’s own, a perfect combination of the two. Despite what both Heavy and Medic would’ve guessed, Soldier isn’t an  _ awful  _ father, but he certainly is an interesting one. Around thanksgiving they get pictures of Demo with them as well, apparently he spends the holidays there now, and from what they hear he finds Soldier’s son to be a riot just like his father.

 

Bronislava does eventually remarry, but its many years later. The two of them don’t have children, but they get a nice quiet apartment in France. She talks with Heavy often, being the oldest of his sisters they were close growing up and they’re still close now. Heavy hears that her husband is an incredible man, very kind and sort of a softie, but is one of the most sincere people she’s met. It makes her first wedding and the years of waiting seem more than worth it, and it makes Heavy’s heart swell to know how happy she is. She’s considering getting some pets currently, as her house is so much quieter since their mother passed away.  

 

Heavy had said that he would take care of her, but Bronislava wouldn’t let him. She insists that for the first time in his life to be a little selfish, and his mother agreed with her as well. She would call Heavy and Medic on weekend afternoons, the cord of their home phone stretching across the kitchen as they made lunch. Medic’s parents had passed away before the war they fought in had even started, but he had come to think of Heavy’s mother as his own. She tries to improve on her English, and Medic makes an effort at Russian and eventually they meet halfway, switching back and forth between languages on the phone. The night before she passes away, she continues knitting the sweater that she’d started for her grandchildren. She passes in her sleep peacefully, filled with pride for her children and eageriness to meet her husband and her own parents again on the other side.

 

They both keep in touch with the rest of the team as much as they can. Some are easier to keep in touch with than others, Demo might as well be a cousin at this point, but mercenaries like Spy and Pyro eventually lose touch. Last they heard of Spy, he was still in the business and couldn’t say really anything else. Pyro however, said nothing after the war apart from some heartfelt goodbye hugs and a mumble or two, but they occasional see them still making news headlines. 

 

Heavy becomes weirdly proud of Scout, who becomes a big baseball player. He never makes it to professional level because of his age, but sometimes his games are shown on TV during the off season and he turns out to be one hell of a camera hog, flashing his smile for all to see. Engineer settles back down in Texas, but becomes a professor back at the college he’d spent all of his time at in his youth. He has a little girl now, a bright and wonderful child he cherishes even more than his wife. They send the occasional christmas card as well, and Medic snickers over how much taller his wife is than him, and how all those short jokes probably still haunt him to this day, but he looks happy enough. Sniper goes off the grid after the war, heading off to nowhere in particular in his campervan. Apparently, he still somehow meets up with Spy for drinks, but mostly he’s just been seeing what the world has to offer. The only reason he doesn’t stay in the business longer is his deteriorating eyesight. He now has a small australian shepherd that travels with him, and she makes sure he’s safe.  

 

As for Heavy and Medic, they simply grow old together. Alone and unafraid in their small slice of paradise, they both end up happier than they’ve ever been. They build a small space for Medic’s work behind their home with only a few moral conditions Heavy sets in place as rules. And Heavy would’ve liked to hang Sasha up in their living room or bedroom, but Medic instead insists on him having free range of the garage for all of his guns and cleaning supplies. Their life is full of compromise for one another, but they wouldn’t have it any other way.

 

When Medic watches the steam rise from their breakfast on the front porch, it reminds him of his daydream from all those years ago back at base. He has the very sappy realization that it all came true, but it doesn’t bother him as much as he’d like to lead on. It was only about a year after the war that Medic realized how much he loved this man. He’d like to say it was incredibly romantic when he realized this, but it was sort a strangely casual thing. They were touring Switzerland at the time, sitting together in a library that was much older than either of them. The light sound of Heavy’s breathing beside him was, as it always had been, a soothing presence. The fleeting thought that he couldn’t honestly imagine a future without him entered his mind, and just like any other scientist, he was determined to see it through.  _ Why _ he couldn’t imagine such a future was an easy conclusion after that. It was simply because he loved Misha, more than he’d cared for any other human being before him. 

 

Such a thought was a terrifying one only a few months prior, but Heavy kisses him so sweetly when they get back to their hotel room. He holds Medic’s hand tightly as if to hold on to him, not to keep him from escaping, but rather to ground his own self from figuratively flying away. In the small space when they break away, it’s then that Heavy finds himself truthfully in love with the Doctor. Of course he’d always loved everything about him, the way his laugh would get higher the funnier the joke was, or how determined his face would get during work, or that same smile that made his knees weak, the one that crinkles at the corners. But this was so much different, a giddy feeling of hope turned into a warm promise and it engulfs him completely. 

 

They call each other their partner, because that’s what they are in every sense of the word. Partners during the war, and partners living and thriving together in a relationship that’s stronger than anything they could ever imagine to bicker over. They both wish again for more time together, they will be openly selfish and admit that they will never have enough time. It’s sort a magical feelings when they pick their house together, and moving in another sensation entirely, another silent promise that hadn’t needed to be spoken. Medic laughs to himself later when he unpacks his suitcase to find that the same shirt he wore on that first night he had drunkenly slipped out a confession, the white sleeve still stained with the imported german beer they had shared together. 

 

As they get older in their house, only the small things change, but never this partnership that they share. Heavy eventually has to get glasses, square frames that fit his face nicely, and Medic luckily keeps most of his hair even when it slowly turns white, to which Heavy is very vocally jealous over. They stay uniquely themselves, as neither of them would want the other to change in the slightest. Sometimes they do have late night talks about the future, reminiscent of their conversations back in Medic’s room after hours on base. They are both understandably frightened of the inevitable implications of growing older, but Heavy holds Medic’s entire being and promises to follow him wherever he goes, just like back in his glory days, and it gets a little better. 

 

Heavy ends up writing a few fables in his free time and stays strong even through age, but it’s his kindness, not to be mistaken for softness, that still continues to shine through. Medic keeps things unpredictable with his curiosities, and his enthusiasm continues to be contagious. They sometimes read in the evenings, Heavy sitting beside Medic is still a soothing presence even when the sound of his breath is much shakier than he would’ve liked. Medic silently reaches for Heavy’s hand, likes he’s done hundreds of times before just to make sure he’s still there. Sometimes in these moments, one of them actually sets aside their pride and says it, those words that couldn’t even begin to describe what they feel for each other but are they only ones language allows them. 

 

So they continue to thrive together, partners till the very end. They don’t have an actual anniversary, but rather the whole month of November is special for them. When Heavy comes home from running errands in town, Medic plays a record of the same song they danced to years ago. His steps are smaller, harder to make in his age as he reaches out to the love of his life offering to dance. Heavy breaths in a deep slow sigh and smiles wide. The wood floor creaks as he strides over to holds his partner confidently, grasps his waist, and starts to spin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its over!!!!! can you believe!!!!!
> 
> I can't thank you all enough, this was my first fic i took seriously, and it was your kindness that gave me the confidence to make more stuff!!!! 
> 
> This was a learning experience and im so glad you all enjoyed it!!!! (or at least i hope so??? lmao)   
> Thank you again!!!!!!!!!!!

**Author's Note:**

> honestly im new to ao3 so if theres anything i can do to change or improve the actual work and or its formatting feel free to let me know! its appreciated! oh and thanks for reading lol
> 
> Find me on:  
> DA - vaporwave-skeletor  
> tumblr - longliveteufort


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